


Make It Official

by GettheSalt



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Guest appearances by Bobbi and Lance and Weaver and Gonzales and Callie, M/M, Mutual Pining, The Proposal AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/GettheSalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo Fitz has a problem. He's been so busy lately, and he just had no time to file the paperwork for his work visa. He never intended for it to bite him in the ass with threats of deportation! Luckily, his assistant, Grant Ward, is ready, and with some coddling, willing, to fill the role of his American fiance. All they need to do is get through one little interview with a federal officer. And survive a weekend in Massachusetts with Grant's family. What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make It Official

**Author's Note:**

> For my 3rd AoS Big Bang, I decided to go with something a little more light-hearted, and a lot more fun, thanks to Netflix's excellent timing of adding The Proposal to their roster.
> 
> The art for this story was done by the amazing AndLatitude on Tumblr, and can be found [here](http://andlatitude.tumblr.com/post/128781516274/make-it-official-art-for-slamncram-s-fitzward-fic).

“You can't honestly, looking me in the eye, tell me that this is where you saw yourself winding up.” Grant Ward frowned, shuffling ahead in the Starbucks line, trying and failing to not look at the time on his phone. They were cutting it close.

Skye Johnson, the brunette next to him, shrugged. As she did, her artfully tousled bangs fell into her eyes, and she had to reach up to brush them back. “It isn't exactly the pipe dream, but you can't really complain, can you? I mean, it's a paycheck.”

Grant did his best not to huff, but didn't manage to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “You work for the nice one.”

It was Skye's turn to roll her eyes, as they got one spot closer to the front of the line. “Fitz isn't mean, you two just... Butt heads.”

“He's a smug prick, actually.”

“Yeah, explains why you two clash. Identical personalities don't generally go well together.”

Skye took a second to shoot a smirk up at him before she sidestepped in front of him and smiled dazzlingly at the barista. “Morning, Donnie.”

“Morning, Miss Johnson.” The barista greeted. “Callie's actually got your drinks ready, now. Cutting it a little close, aren't you?” He looked back and forth between her and Grant. “I mean, usually you two have been and gone by this time.”

“Her fault.” Grant answered in a clipped tone, giving the other barista, Callie, his tightest smile as he took the tray she offered him.

She winked.

He furrowed his eyebrows.

Skye paid and put her hand on Grant's side, pushing him away from the front of the line. “C'mon, c'mon. You can't throw me under the bus for supposedly being the reason we're going to be late, and then stand there making googoo eyes at the chick barista. It doesn't work like that, Grant.”

She had a point, and Grant kept that in mind, quick-marching out of the coffeeshop and back into the busy Manhattan street. His size helped with that; in general, people tended to get out of the way when they saw a decently physically fit guy in a suit well over six feet coming their way. It was like some kind of instinctual response. It definitely worked better than petite Skye, in her wedge heels, and olive green dress, leading the way. Sure, the _clink_ of her bracelets banging together might be mistaken by totally inept people as a bike bell. The key words in that sentence were 'inept people', though, and while New York had plenty of those, Grant wasn't sure many would be inept enough for the sounds Skye made to have any major effect on their behaviour.

It was why he led the way.

By the time they hailed down a cab and headed off towards the office, they were getting down to crunch time.

The upside of their jobs, like Skye had said, was a paycheck. Honestly, a really nice one, too. It wasn't cheap to live in New York, even less so to live in Manhattan. With the paychecks their positions pulled, however, it was not only affordable, it was almost cheap. For quaint little apartments, anyway. No penthouses for them.

The downside of their jobs?

Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons.

Now, maybe that wasn't fair, and Grant made sure not to say that kind of thing to anyone but his family. Jemma Simmons was actually a very lovely young woman. Intelligent, a snappy dresser, had a take-charge attitude that generally didn't rub people the wrong way. It was easy to see why she had risen so high within Shield Scientific Services' ranks, to become the co-director of the Northeast Division of the company. Skye was her executive assistant, and as such, was Grant's counterpart within the office.

Leo Fitz, on the other hand, was a whole different kettle of fish.

At least, from where Grant stood. Which was generally just behind Leo, and slightly to the left.

Leo – Leopold, actually – Fitz was generally likeable, if you didn't work directly under him. Yes, he was fair, and yes, he was kind, but the guy expected a lot from the people who worked for him. And when he expected something, and you didn't live up to it?

Oh boy.

Get ready for a barrage of vague insults in a Scottish brogue that you'd hear in your nightmares for weeks while you relived the small mistake you'd made that at the time had seemed so large.

Fitz had something of a short fuse, but together with Simmons, they made an exceptional pair. His fire and her brilliance had brought the company to new heights, and every week they were innovating something new, something more exciting.

And every week, Grant was spending Monday to Friday racing into the office with Leo's coffee in hand, and a prayer on his tongue that today would be an agreeable day.

Grant had one thing to be thankful for, at least, and that was that, for all of Leo's snarky comments, his sarcasm and his downright insults, at least they kept up with each other. He could have been out on his ass three years ago if, for some reason, Leo didn't get some kind of kick out of the dry humour the two of them shared. No other office in the city would have let him get away with some of the things he said to his boss, and that was the silver lining.

That, and the paycheck.

Executive assistant hadn't exactly been his first career choice, but it was nearly in line with what it was he wanted to do. Of course, to do what he wanted to do – which was to head up the branch of the company that dealt with research and PR – it meant moving on a line almost adjacent to his current boss. If he wanted that position, he needed to not only impress Fitz, but also somehow not wow him enough that, if and when the time came for that position to open up, Fitz was leery about letting him free.

There would always be other executive assistants. Grant was determined to prove that, once the man currently running Research and PR, Clifford Vaughan, retired, he was the only one that could do it.

The cab pulled up in front of the building, and Skye jumped out, not only leaving Grant to pay the fare, but also leaving him to handle the coffees. His glare made it apparent to her how unimpressed he was with that move as they hurried in the front doors, scanning their badges on the way in. Skye, of course, was kind enough to greet the morning guard, Lou, asking him how his morning was so far, and if he had had a good evening the night before. Grant merely nodded, and on they went to the elevators.

“We've got like, six minutes to spare.” Skye said, checking her phone. She tucked it back in her purse, and then turned to Grant, reaching to take hers and Simmons' coffees from the cardboard tray in his hands. “Try and smile, Grumpy. It's only 8:54 in the morning.” She tugged one of the coffees loose and smiled up at him brightly. “You've still got a whole day ahead of-- Oh _shit_!”

The elevator lurched to a stop, and the tray, being jerked around already by Skye's attempts at loosening Simmons' coffee, overbalanced. Jemma's coffee came loose just in time for both Grant's and Fitz's to tip over and spill. All over the right arm and side of his crisp, white dress shirt.

“Shit, _shit_ , I'm _so_ sorry,” Skye said, waving the coffees in apology – carefully. She couldn't risk spilling on _herself_ , after all.

“It's fine, just _move_ ,” Grant hissed, waving her out of the elevator with the arm that wasn't currently being warmed by slowly cooling coffee. The second she was out of the way, he was off like a shot, moving quickly towards Fitz's – and by default, his – office. Technically, his office was an area attached to Fitz's office, separated by a glass door, but he was so often following Fitz around – with Simmons' and Skye – that it didn't really seem practical for him to use his own 'office'.

Swinging into Fitz's, he set down the coffee tray, pulling each cup loose and weighing them in his hands. Once he'd figured out which was heavier – and by a lot, he set it down, carefully, on Fitz's desk, and removed the other to the small meeting table on the other side of the office.

Then he rushed out into the office proper.

“Hey, man!”

Antoine Triplett, all smiles, even this early in the morning, and a miracle in all rights. This had been the guy who had backed Skye up when she said it was always good to have a change of clothes in the office, just in case something went wrong.

Something like spilling Starbucks coffee down one's front.

“Hey, Trip, how you doing? Listen, I need a favour.”

Trip, as he was affectionately known, smirked at Grant's shirt. “Oh, so now you don't think it's being paranoid and a little vain.”

Grant pressed his lips together. “So, yeah, eight months ago, when we had that argument? Turns out, I was wrong, and you were right, and I will get you the company box for the first Rangers' game of the season if you help me out, here.”

Trip raised an eyebrow. “I would've helped you without the bribe, but all right. You know, we're a bit... I mean, I think we're one size off, for shirt size, you know. Might be a bit tight.”

“Don't care.”

Trip laughed, and opened the bottom drawer of his small office's storage unit, pulling out a crisply folded blue dress shirt. “All right. Better hurry, you've got three minutes before the big bosses get here.”

Three minutes and twenty four seconds later, Grant was swinging into Fitz's office just behind him. Timed just about perfectly.

“Morning.”

“Morning, Grant.” Leo greeted, looking over his shoulder and smiling. He set his shoulder bag down on his desk, and continued looking Grant up and down, his smile wavering a little bit. “Shirt's a little tight.”

Of course he'd notice.

Though, Grant supposed, it was hard not to. The thing was pretty tight across his chest. On his lunch break he'd probably have to rush back to his apartment – if Fitz left him alone for lunch – and change into something he actually owned. Trip's spare would do for now.

“Found it in the back of my closet, thought I'd give it a shot.”

Fitz raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

That, at least, was the end of the questions. Leo went back to his bag, emptying out his work laptop, and a few files. “So, today's going to be pretty busy. We have that conference call at one, but this morning we're going to have to meet with some of the higher ups. They flew in from California for the tech conference this weekend, and since they're in town, I suppose they want to meet with Jemma and myself, just to go over some things.” He dropped into his seat with a small sigh, and picked up his coffee. “Any messages for me from last night?”

Grant had at least had the foresight to grab the tablet hooked up to Leo's personal phone line. The talk-to-text functionality was a godsend, on mornings like this. “Yeah, uhhh.” He scrolled down the list. There were only three calls. “One from Mackenzie, asking what you're intending to do with the automation sector next quarter...”

“That can wait.”

Grant nodded. “One from Miss Weaver, just confirming what you've already told me about. Meeting this morning.” He scrolled to the last message, skimming it briefly. “And you've gotten a call from your immigration lawyer?” He looked up, frowning. “Says he hasn't been able to get you on your personal phone, thought he'd give this a try? Says it's rather urgent.”

It did, in bold text. Rather urgent that they speak. Grant knew that Leo was technically only in the country on a work visa, and that, some time ago, he'd been working on filing for citizenship. Working for a national technology and science company meant that he was perfectly comfortable here, where he was. It only made sense that he would file to stay in the country, rather than go back to Scotland.

“Mm. I need to call him.” Leo nodded, opening his laptop. “All right, nothing major, then. Do me a favour? Go give Kaminsky that copy of the write-up I've added to his file, and remind him that I really, _really_ won't tolerate results being skewed again because of idiot mistakes like that.” He lifted the coffee and took a sip of it, setting it back down on the desk top with a little _tup_. “And then make the rounds. Have everyone's results loaded into the system for me by eleven, and then we'll head upstairs with Jemma and Skye to meet with Anne and Robert.”

Grant nodded, not exactly looking forward to the humdrum morning routine, but glad it didn't involve actually firing anyone, this time. When those things happened, it was always an affair. The last person Fitz had fired, young guy, Dormer, had put on quite the show before being removed by security. Had yelled at Leo about how being a child prodigy didn't make up for what a little prick he was.

Grant was inclined to agree, but kept that kind of thing to himself.

Acutely aware of how tight the shirt he was wearing stretched across his chest, Grant opened the locked employee files cabinet, flipping to Kaminsky's to retrieve the photocopy of his write-up.

“Grant?”

“Yes?”

Leo paused a beat, and Grant looked over, frowning.

The other was sitting with his coffee held up gingerly in his fingers, frowning at the side of it. For a brief, agonizing second, Grant wondered if the baristas had messed up their order, or if Skye had taken his or Leo's instead of leaving the cinnamon dolce latte for Grant to give his boss.

“Who's Callie?”

“Uh.” Grant blinked. “The barista at Starbucks. Why?”

“She wants you to call her for a good time.” Leo finished, turning the cup so he could see the loopy scrawl and curve of numbers on the cup. “ _Tiger_.”

That was written on the cup, too.

Grant swallowed.

Not that there would have been much chance before, but there definitely wasn't, now.

“I learned something new about you today, Grant!” Leo grinned. “You have as much of a sweet tooth as me. And here I was thinking you drank black coffee.”

He did.

But it was easier to prepare for the chance that the barista would mess up one of the lattes, or that he'd drop one, than to deal with the prospect of  _not_ having Leo's coffee there for him when he arrived in the mornings.

The whining would never end.

Honestly, some days he wished that the leash he miraculously had with Leo went far enough that he could repeat what Dormer had said to Fitz. Without the consequences, obviously. Sadly, his leash wasn't quite that long.

“Guilty.” Grant said, plastering on a fake grin. “I'll see you in a few hours, then, won't I?”

And with that, he beat a hasty retreat, headed for Kaminsky's office. Today was already off to a riotous start, there was no way it could get any better or worse.

 

*

 

“So, how's the morning been?”

“Uneventful.” Grant answered. Skye smiled, and glanced into Leo's office, where his partner, Jemma Simmons, was helping Fitz pack up before they went up to the meeting. Unsurprisingly, Jemma had been ready to go before Leo. That happened. He was brilliant, and he'd gotten to where he was on his own laurels, but in some ways, Fitz and Simmons would always need to be a pair. They kept each other together. “Made the rounds, warned Kaminsky against screwing up again.” He gave Skye a thin smile. “Same old, same old.”

“Thrilling.” She raised her eyebrows. “So, what do you think this meeting is about?”

Grant shrugged. “Just touching base, probably. It isn't often they're in town, right?”

“No.” Skye agreed, but the way she dragged the word out made it obvious to Grant that she thought it was more than that. Arms crossed, he waited patiently for her to continue. They had time, anyway. Judging by the accents, and how much thicker they'd gotten, FitzSimmons had gotten into a debate about something or other. Again. “Jemma doesn't know why they're here, but she seems... Worried?”

“If it's about her job, I really don't think they're going to be sending her anywhere.” Grant assured Skye. “Which means _your_ position is safe, too.”

Skye gave him an unimpressed look. “Thanks. Not what I think she thinks it is, though.”

“All right, Sherlock.” Grant leaned against the doorjamb, raising both eyebrows in question. “If that's not it, when what do you think _she_ thinks it is?”

Skye frowned, and glanced into the office again.

“They can't hear us, they're...” Grant waved a hand. “Arguing.”

Huffing, Skye turned back to face him, glancing around them to make sure the coast was clear before she spoke. “I think it has to do with Fitz. I think something's up with him.”

That didn't make any sense. Nothing had really changed about or for Leo, recently. Grant was his assistant, that was the sort of thing he was supposed to be aware of. He couldn't think of anything off the top of his head that raised any red flags. Nothing, at least, that Leo reacted to with some concern. The only thing it would possibly be was related to his citizenship application, considering his immigration lawyer had called, but Leo had waved that off so grandly. It was a non-issue.

“Maybe she's just nervous about making a good impression.” He answered, finally. “And if Leo's not on his best behaviour...”

Skye caught on, nodding and making a small humming noise of agreement. “He can be kind of a handful when he's not, huh?”

“You think?” Grant hissed.

That was the understatement of the year.

Skye smirked, and straightened up. Jemma and Leo were heading their way now. “You're probably right.”

“I know I am.” Grant answered, stepping aside to let the co-directors pass, before falling in line behind them.

“Ready to meet the big bosses?” Jemma asked, giving him a cheery smile. “I know you and Skye have only met them once. Anne is a truly wonderful woman, though, and Robert...” She hesitated a second, openly casting around for the correct adjective to describe Robert Gonzales, as their party stepped onto the elevator. “Well, he's formidable.”

“That would get you a lot of points in Scrabble,” Leo joked, pushing the button for the top floor. Jemma frowned deeply at him.

The elevator ride was short, considering it was only another floor up. The floor they were on now was compromised mainly of meeting rooms and storage areas. The smallest, coziest room was the one that they were headed to, where the heads of the company had set up shop for the week while they prepared for the conference. Normally silent, the floor buzzed with quiet conversation, and the shuffle of people moving around, setting things up and settling in. Grant knocked on the door, and then held it open to its full extent when a woman called 'come in'.

Anne Weaver and Robert Gonzales stood in the middle of a small group of people, sorting out two of the smaller mahogany tables into temporary desks. They had each brought two assistants with them, who were milling around, too, but seemingly actually achieving things, while the heads of the company debated whatever it was they were debating.

“Good, right on time.” Anne greeted, waving them in. “Come in, have a seat. Sorry for the mess, we're in the process...”

“Not a problem.” Jemma assured her, taking a seat across from the two heads. Gonzales was already easing into a seat, one of the assistants holding his chair steady. Once they were all seated, Gonzales dismissed their assistants for lunch.

No one spoke again until the distant  _ding_ of the elevator signaled that they were alone on the floor again.

Then, suddenly, they were plowing forward so fast that Grant didn't have time to understand when they'd gone from exchanging pleasantries to getting down to business. At least he wasn't alone in that. Skye looked like she was sure she had  _just_ finished greeting them when Robert said, “Leo, Jemma, we have a bit of a serious situation on our hands.”

Jemma made a small, worried noise, and said, “That's exactly what I was afraid of.” Grant didn't miss the significant look she gave Leo. “It's expired, hasn't it?”

“Not _yet_.” Anne said. She looked almost relieved that Jemma had jumped right into the subject. Grant, for his part, was lost. So, it seemed, was Skye.

_What_ was expiring?

“It's getting very close, though.” Anne said. “As in, a matter of days, close. Leo, I had thought this was taken care of? Either you were applying for citizenship, or you were applying to have the visa extended...?” She trailed off, and Robert picked up her thought.

“That was the agreement, was it not?”

Leo frowned, and then opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Straightened up in his seat and turned to Grant, brows furrowed, frown digging deep lines in his face.

“Did I not file my citizenship paperwork?”

Grant stared back at him, time seeming to slow.

Suddenly it all came together.

“That wasn't my responsibility, sir.” He answered, almost deadpan.

Leo Fitz's work visa was expiring and he hadn't put through his citizenship paperwork, nor had he filed for an extension on his work visa.

Leo Fitz was going to be deported.

“How could you just _forget_?” Jemma asked, her voice thin.

Fitz turned back around, giving her a small shrug. “We're very busy, a lot of the time. But, listen, I'm sure we can work this out, right? We can file for... I don't know, an emergency extension? I'm willing to pay to rush it.”

Anne shook her head. “Something like this, they won't rush, Leo. I'm sorry. Obviously, we can resubmit your application for a whole new work visa, but you won't be able to stay in the country while that processes.”

Leo's face, or what bit of it Grant could see, paled.

“So...” He swallowed, readjusting in his seat. “So, this means...?”

“We'll have to terminate you.” Gonzales said, simply. Like it wasn't Leo's extremely well-paying, well-respected career he was pulling out from under him. “Hand the co-director position over to someone else, as you won't be able to work for an American company while you're back home in Scotland.” He shook his head. Cold bastard. “It's regrettable, but unless there were extreme circumstances, like an engagement, there isn't really anything the company can do to keep you in the country.” The older man chuckled. “And, despite the rumours, we all know you and Miss Simmons are practically brother and sister. People say you're already married to science, Leo.”

Grant pressed his lips together, doing his best to process this. Leo was going to be deported. The guy didn't have a girlfriend, from what he knew. That probably had to do with the fact that there was more truth than lie in the rumour regarding Fitz's preferences. Hell, that aside, though, Grant didn't think he'd ever seen him with  _anyone_ . Gonzales was right when he said that people said Fitz was married to science.

Leo was looking at him.

Not looking. Staring.

“I have a confession to make.”

Grant blinked. Then frowned. Mouthed 'what' even though he knew that Gonzales and Weaver would see it.

“I know that it's... Well, it's against company policy, really, and that's why we had to move Triplett into a subclass that was strictly overseen by myself, but...” He reached out, smiling, and laid his hand on Grant's knee. “Grant and I... We've been seeing each other, and just a few weeks ago...”

Grant saw where this was going. He saw where it was going, and he wanted desperately to put the brakes on, but he was frozen in disbelief. Somewhere to his right, he could feel Skye staring at him, mouth agape.

Good, she was making this all the more believable with that kind of reaction.

_Shit._

“He popped the question. I said yes.” Leo's fingers squeezed his knee, and he turned back to face the group. Jemma was staring at him with an unreadable expression that Grant supposed could have been taken as shock at hearing this for the first time. Gonzales and Weaver looked raptly interested. “We hadn't told anyone yet, because we thought some maneuvering would have to be done, or it would never be allowed, but, well.”

His fingers moved up Grant's thigh a little bit and squeezed again, making him jump.

“You can't stop a love like ours.”

The room was eerily silent. Grant didn't dare look anywhere but at Leo, hoping against hope that either this would be laughed off, or they wouldn't both end up on handcuffs for attempting to break national law.

Neither thing happened, though. Instead, Gonzales cleared his throat, tapped the table in front of him once, and said, “Were you two... planning on making it official any time soon? Otherwise, this will look rather suspicious to the authorities.”

“This weekend, actually.” Leo said, turning back to Grant, holding his attention. “We're going to visit Grant's family, for his grandmother's birthday. She's turning 80.”

Grant almost asked how Leo had remembered that, but it didn't seem like the smartest thing to blurt out. Not right now. “Yeah... Yes. That was the plan. We were going to tell my family this weekend.”

He ignored Skye's aborted 'what'.

He'd have to explain to her, later, how he was going with the flow, and thanking his high school drama class for giving him the skills to follow Leo's terrible improv.

“And... Oh, yes, your mother's passed.” Anne filled in for Leo. “Well. I would really like you two to go down to the immgration office immediately after this, if you could. Clear this all up with one of the immigration officers down there.” She raised a hand, seeing Leo opening his mouth to argue. “Don't worry about the conference call. Jemma, you can handle that, yes?”

For the first time since Fitz had begun laying his elaborate, highly illegal lie, Jemma tore her eyes away from her partner, and looked back at her superior. It took a beat for her to lose the dazed look, and then she nodded, once, firm. “Absolutely. I'll take notes enough for both of us.”

“Perfect, then you, Leo, and Grant, can head right to the immigration office.” Gonzales said. “Get this cleared up, and then have an excellent time in...”

He left space for them to fill in, and Grant hesitated, just long enough to Leo to dredge up what he knew of where his assistant hailed from.

“Manchester.”

“Massachusetts.”

“M-Massachusetts.” Leo glanced back at Grant, both eyebrows raising. Grant wanted to ask him, right there, just where else he thought a place called 'Manchester' was, other than New England, but that would shatter their ruse into a thousand pieces. Better leave it for the elevator ride down. “Massachusetts.” Leo repeated, turning back to Weaver and Gonzales and grinning.

“Have a wonderful time in Manchester.” Weaver said.

Gonzales smiled. “And congratulations.”

 

*

 

By the time they were exiting the building, Grant was starting to feel something again.

Namely, outrage.

“What the _hell_ are you even thinking?” he hissed, careful to keep his voice down and his body language neutral while he followed Leo out on to the sidewalk. People milled around them, skirting the two of them as they headed toward the line of taxis waiting for the never-ending mid-day rush of business men and women needing rides to and from this place and that. It made it extremely obvious how dangerous this discussion was. If the wrong person overheard, they could both be screwed over. Honestly, if Grant had spoken up in the meeting room, he wouldn't even be in this predicament, now, but he hadn't, and so, here they were, getting into a cab. Leo hadn't even slowed down on his walk from the meeting room to the elevator to the cab. Single-minded determination was a bitch.

“Where to?” the cabbie asked, eying the two of them in the rearview.

“The immigration office.” Leo answered briskly, waiting for the taxi to pull away from the curb, before turning to Grant. “Now, I was thinking that this was a simple business transaction, and you would be more than willing to hold up your end.”

Grant stared at him. “How d'you figure?”

Leo shrugged, turning to the window on his side. “Well, you don't exactly have prospects. Romantically, I mean. But you do have professional ones. Ones that I could help with, if you would help me out with this one little thing.”

He didn't need to say it in any plainer terms than that. Grant understood. If he played along, was the good fiance, and married Leo up good and right, he would get the promotion he'd been hoping for. In fact, it would be a better move to slide him out from under Leo's control and put him on a line that was, while still under Leo's jurisdiction, a little bit more independent of his control. Plus, Jemma had a good hold in the position, too. It wasn't like he would only be answering to his husband.

There was a thought.

Leo Fitz, his husband-to-be.

“You're trying to bribe me into this?”

Leo turned back, and for the first time, Grant saw the uncertainty in his eyes over all of this. He'd been so cool and collected in the meeting room, Grant had thought he didn't understand the severity of what he was attempting. Seeing that look now, it became all too obvious that, not only was he fully aware of the severity, he was at least a little petrified by it. “It's not like you're going to do it willingly, is it? So, yes, I'm bribing you, Grant Ward. Does that work for you?”

Grant frowned, narrowing his eyes. “You didn't really even ask me to do it, you know. You just kind of exploded out with it, and now, here we are, having to live with the consequences of your big mouth.” He shook his head and sat back in his seat. “I can't believe you've gotten as far as you have in the world with shitty on-the-spot thinking like that.”

It was risky to say something like that, and Grant knew it. However, Leo also knew that there was no easy way out of what he had pulled back there in front of Weaver and Gonzales. If he wanted to keep his job, and, more importantly, stay in the country legally, he needed Grant. A lot more than Grant needed him. Grant had all the cards in this situation, and, by his reckoning, he was fine to throw that one – outright insulting his boss' ability to make rational decisions – on the table.

After all, honesty in a marriage – the thing they would be entering into – was very important. And that was how Grant honestly felt.

For his part, Leo didn't answer. It was probably better that way, too, because the last thing they needed was to get into a full-on argument in the cab on the way to the immigration office. Even if the cabbie was listening in, there was no way, from what they had already said, that he would be able to pin them as faking a marriage so Leo could stay in the country. If they got into an argument, however, who knew what they would say? That might lead to a whole new world of problems for both of them, so it was best that they both shut up and watch the cityscape go by outside the cab windows.

Once they got to the immigration office, they were squeezed into a waiting room with a few dozen other people, while Leo filed out his paperwork once more and handed it to a clerk. There were vending machines along one wall, and a long bank of desks along the other, clerks collecting paperwork and checking over documents. If Leo had actually bothered to properly do his paperwork right the first time, he probably would have been in one of those lines a few months ago. Now, instead, they were being directed to wait for an immigration officer to come collect them and take them into an office, where they would probably have to fill out a whole bunch of other fun forms that required photocopies of identification and signatures in triplicate.

It wasn't how Grant had hoped to spend his lunch break.

Then again, the way he had been intending to spend his lunch break wasn't really how he'd hoped to be spending it either, so, while this was a pretty spectacular step down from that, he figured it wasn't actually any great loss.

Minus the way his stomach turned over, reverberating with hunger.

Next to him, Leo's did the same, and the co-director grimaced, shifting in his seat. Grant didn't miss the way his eyes fell on the vending machines, and his lower lip disappeared into his mouth. He knew that look well. It was the look Leo got when he was considering something; weighing whether or not he should go ahead and do it. In this case, not doing it meant his hunger would get worse. Doing it might mean carrying a chocolate bar into the meeting with the immigration officer, whenever he or she came to collect them, which might make give him less put together appearance than he was probably hoping to present.

For Grant, however, the choice was easy. If Leo didn't get something to tide him over, he was probably going to become whiny, both before and after the meeting, regardless of how it went. That was one thing that Grant had learned, working with him over the years. Leo Fitz loved to eat, loved to snack, and was, for all intents and purposes, akin to a child when his stomach went unattended. For that reason, and that reason alone, Grant got up and went to the vending machines, ignoring Leo's head tilt of confusion when he stood. It didn't take him long to pick something out and return to their seats, tossing the bag into Leo's lap and dropping back into his hard plastic chair next to the other.

“There. That should tide you over, and you can just hide them in your bag when we get called in, if you haven't finished them by then.”

Leo turned over the little plastic bag in his hands, reading the label before breaking into an actual smile. “Chocolate covered pretzels. Good choice.” He turned the smile on Grant, opening the bag. “You know me.”

“I do.” Grant agreed. “It's kind of my job.” Frowning, he realized that was a point on his side, but a strike on Leo's. Sure, he knew most everything there was to know about his boss, because his job revolved around his boss, his boss' job, and making sure that his boss had everything he needed to be happy and effective. Leo, on the other hand, knew nothing about him. Or, Grant suspected, at least close to nothing.

That was going to be a real problem if they were supposed to be a couple, deeply in love, or in the very least in love enough to get married.

“That why I've kept you around.” Leo said around the pretzel in his mouth. Grant grunted, choosing to keep his revelation to himself. Hopefully they would be able to get around everything with flying colours. Maybe the fact that Leo barely knew anything about him wouldn't even come up.

“Mr. Fitz?”

Leo and Grant both looked up at the petite woman in blue standing at the entranceway to the hall that led to the offices. Leo raised his hand in a wave and stood, grabbing his bag from the floor. Grant did the same. The woman smiled and waved towards the hall, asking them to follow after her.

Well, it was showtime.

The room they were taken to was the size of an average office, with a desk, filing cabinets and three chairs. One behind the desk, and two in front. Nothing overly intimidating, which was a relief. Grant took a seat in one of the chairs, and Leo the other, while the woman held open the door.

“Ms. May will be with you in a just a few moments.” She said, and then left, leaving them sitting in the office alone. If Grant was honest, it was much worse than being in the waiting room with all the other poor schmucks. In here, it was just him, and Leo, and the silence.

He didn't even dare to talk, in case he say something that was picked up on a bug in this room, and outted them for the fakes they were.

Thankfully, neither of them had to wait long. Leo had just snuck another chocolate covered pretzel into his mouth when the door opened and a short woman with long dark hair walked in, nodding to them both and taking up the seat behind the desk. She didn't smile, which wasn't comforting. She just immediately opened the file folder in her hand, looking it over.

“Pleasure to meet you, gentlemen, my name is Melinda May.”

“Pleasure's all ours, Melinda.” Leo said.

“I'm sure it is.” She replied in a deadpan, closing the file and looking up. “And I prefer May.”

“May it is,” Leo amended. He was maybe coming off as a little too eager, but Grant wasn't sure if that was obvious, or only something he noticed because he knew him. “So, what do we need to do to get this handled today?”

“First, I'm going to need you and Mr. Ward here to answer some questions.” May said. Still no smile. Damn.

“Understandable.” Leo leaned back in his chair, reaching over to once more squeeze Grant's knee. “Ask away.”

Grant hoped his smile didn't look constipated.

“The questions,” May started. “Will actually come in a few days. We need to resubmit the paperwork you filled out today. Earliest we will be doing to question session would be Monday.”

Leo nodded, slow. “Oh. Well, that's all right. Right?” He looked over at Grant. “That's all right, isn't it, babe? Gives up more time to finish packing before we leave in the morning.”

May's eyebrows rose. “Leave?”

“Well,” Leo turned his smile back on her. “We were planning to go to visit Grant's family this weekend. It's his grandmother's birthday, and we were going to use the chance, while the family's together, to make our announcement. Then all this with my work visa expiring happened, and...” He laughed. It sounded a bit put on to Grant. Hopefully, if it sounded the same to May, she interpreted it as nerves and stress over their wedding plans being interrupted with this messy immigration and citizenship thing.”Well, you can see how--”

“--Is this marriage a sham wedding in order to make sure that Mr. Fitz here gets to keep his job at Shield Scientific Services?”

Shit.

May didn't mess around.

Fitz bristled, noticeably. “How dare you say something like that! Do you ask that of all the couples that you see, or is it just because we're men, and you have some kind of--”

“--I ask every couple that I see that question, Mr. Fitz. It's my job.”

She stared them down, her expression searching as she looked between the two of them.

Grant cleared his throat, noticing the way Leo had clammed up at that. “I apologise, Ms. May. It's just that we _have_ been rather swamped at work, and then there was the wedding stuff to plan, and visiting my family.” He smiled, hoping it looked as charming as he wanted it to. “Between all of us here, we're a little worried about how my mother's going to react. And then we realized that Leo hadn't correctly filed his paperwork, and you can see how we'd be a little on edge.”

May quirked one eyebrow, and then nodded. “I can see how, yes. I would just like to point out that it is my job to root out anyone who is trying to exploit the immigration system in the manner that it appears you two may be doing. We will be conducting the interview on Monday morning, at 10AM sharp. After that, I conduct interviews with the people close to you. Your coworkers, neighbours. I might even Skype conference with Mr. Ward's family. So long as all of that checks out, you will be free to enjoy your road to wedded bliss together.”

She didn't need to say what would happen if they didn't pass the interview.

She had to know that, and yet, that didn't stop her from adding, “Just be aware, that if I determine that the two of you are lying about your relationship in order to keep Mr. Fitz here from losing his job, there will be consequences. Mr. Fitz will be deported, immediately, back to Scotland, and you, Mr. Ward, having committed a felony, will be facing a fine of $250, 000, and a potential of five years in a federal penitentiary.”

Grant nodded. Leo nodded, too, but he didn't stop there. “I understand that this is all procedure,” he said, smiling that charming little smile. Considering May had just told them the high stakes of what they were attempting, it was a little off-putting to Grant that he suddenly seemed so much more at ease. “But I think, at the end of this, you'll be so convinced, you'll be asking for an invitation to our wedding yourself.”

May finally smiled, but it was stiff. “Is that what you think?”

“It's what I know.” Leo said, proudly.

May's smile grew, and she looked from Leo to Grant, her eyebrows raising a little. Challenging him to one-up his fiance.

“You know, I think, uh...” Grant glanced from Leo, to May, and back. “You're going to believe in true love, when you're done with us, Ms. May.”

Leo's smile grew, and May's shrank just a little.

“I certainly hope I do.” She said. “Enjoy your weekend away, gentlemen. I will see you on Monday.”

 

*

 

Skye didn't wait for Grant to open his apartment door completely. It had been only a few hours since the debacle at the office, and he was deep into attempting to pack for this trip away. It wasn't as though what had happened at work had thrown him off, he hadn't intended to finish packing until that night, anyway. Now, however, he had to pack with the intention of making impressions on his boss, and his family. Leo had to know he was committed to their little ruse – even though it just about guaranteed him jail time and a hefty fine if it blew up in their faces – and to his family, well, he wanted to present the image of someone who was put together, when he made this announcement to them.

Especially because it might soften the blow.

It wasn't that he wasn't close with his parents; it was more like his parents had more regular correspondence from their yearly tax return than they did with their second eldest son.

It was all a very convoluted environment, and here he was, bringing his boss – apparently his _fiance –_ into the middle of it. Gramzy's birthday had already promised to be an event, on some level. It always was. Now, it was likely to turn into an extravanganza. Especially if Grant couldn't keep a handle on his mother.

Keeping a handle on Elaine Ward was difficult, even for her husband. For her son, who had done little more than throw the family legacy in her face? It was going to be a feat.

“So, riddle me this,” Skye said, bursting open the second Grant had closed the door behind her. “You hate Fitz. Like, you _hate_ him. You think he's childish, unprofessional. Genius, maybe, on some level, but incompetent, and a victim of really, _really_ good fortune.” She stopped, like she was giving all these revelations the chance to seep in. “And you're _marrying_ him? And you didn't think to maybe _tell me_ when all of that _changed_?” The heavy emphasis that she was putting on certain words seemed liable to put her right through the floor under the weight. Grant paused a second, waiting to see if she was finished. She wasn't.

“Or, maybe, was that all a very, very clever misdirect, so that I, nor anyone else, wouldn't suspect you two had some office hanky-panky going on?” Skye's eyes narrowed, and she shrugged at him. “Come on, Grant, you've got to give me something, here. I thought we were friends, you know? You could have told me you were dating Fitz, and then getting _engaged_ to him.”

“Are you finished?” Grant asked, holding out a hand, indicating that she was free to go on, if she felt so inclined. When she didn't, he nodded, and pressed ahead himself in the silence. It was risky, but he couldn't confide in anyone else, and Skye was trustworthy. Of that much, he was sure. She would understand the position that he was in, and while she might not agree with it, she would at least appreciate the reality off it. “We aren't engaged. We haven't even been on one date.”

Skye's eyes narrowed.

“What Fitz did... He knows that I have loftier goals than this, than being his assistant. He promised me that he'd get me elevated into that position, if I played along. He's only been holding me down, and we both know it. We _all_ know it. I do the work he doesn't want to, and I'm the reason he gets to be lazy and coast in this job, and only exercise his genius when it's convenient. So, I do this, I get that job I want, and after everything is cool and the pressure is off, we get a divorce.” Grant made the motion with his hands like he was dusting them off.

Skye was quiet for another minute before she hissed, “You know you can go to jail for this?”

Grant sighed, and walked past her, leading the way into his living room. Articles of his clothing were carefully tucked into a duffel bag perched on the coffee table, a few pairs of socks and a shirt or two laying beside it, yet to be added. “You want a beer?”

“I think I _need_ a beer,” Skye said in a deadpan tone, dropping herself onto his couch and kicking her feet up, boots on the edge of the table. Grant thought for a second about saying something, but refrained, ducking into the kitchen to grab them two beers. “I can't believe you're doing this. You know what happens if you two get found out?”

Grant sighed, wandering back into the living room. “Massive fine for me, possible jail time, and Leo gets carted back to Scotland.”

He held out a beer to her while she raised her eyebrows. “And knowing those risks, you're still going to go ahead and do this?”

“Well, yeah, I mean...” Grant dropped down on the couch next to Skye, twisting the top off his beer bottle and tossing it onto the coffee table. It pinged off the wood next to a pair of socks and skittered to the edge. “Leo is frustrating as hell, and yes, he's lazy, and he's childish, but even I can admit that the reason this branch of Shield Sciences is so successful is because of the work that he and Simmons have done.”

Skye was silent for a minute, taking a drink from her beer. “Can I just point out that you're calling him 'Leo'?” She gave Grant a significant look. “That sounds... so weird, coming from you.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. He's my fiance, remember? I don't think it would play out nicely if I was calling him by his last name all the time. We have an interview on Monday, find out what we know about each other, how believable it is that we're a couple.” He gave the light blue folder sticking out of his messenger bag a suspicious look. “Any question in that booklet is fair game. Plus,” He turned a bright, sarcastic smile on Skye. “You and Simmons are probably going to be questioned, too. And possibly my family, over teleconference. _So great_.”

Skye winced. “Wait, so Jemma and I have to back up that you are a couple?”

“Mhmm.” Grant took another sip from his bottle. “I was actually going to call you to give you a heads up in about an hour or so. But, you came here, so that made it a lot simpler.”

Skye was quiet for a few minutes, toying with the label on her beer bottle, clearly lost in thought. For his part, Grant tried to keep his mind blank. There was too much to worry about, in his present situation, that hadn't been there before. If he dwelt on it for too long, he wouldn't be surprised to find that his head exploded. Or something equally gruesome.

“I really, really don't want you to go to jail.”

Grant smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I don't really want to do that, either.”

Skye turned, fixing Grant with a hard look. “Then you better convince the immigration officer, on Monday, that you two are a very happy couple on your way to wedded bliss.” She worried her lower lip for a second. “You know everything there is to know about Leo. Does he know the first thing there is to know about you?”

Grant opened his mouth to reply, but Skye cut him off.

“Does he even know about your family?”

No.

No, he definitely didn't. When it came to the things he knew about his assistant, this weekend was going to be an eye opener for Leo Fitz,

And that eye opening would probably begin and end with Douglas, Elaine, Christian, Thomas and Charlotte Ward.

 

*

 

“Well. This is... kind of an awful and terrible situation you've gotten yourself into.”

Jemma's confidence was truly uplifting for Leo. The two of them were walking erratic circles around his penthouse apartment, him attempting to pack, her correcting his packing. Packing for New England wasn't something he had been planning on doing tonight, and it showed. He was sure that it didn't require anything too out of the ordinary, and his regular attire would more than suffice, but he wasn't _sure_. To add to that, he knew next to nothing about Grant Ward's family. That was something that he hadn't realized until he was already riding the elevator up to his apartment, and he wasn't about to call the man and ask him how to dress to impress his family.

It wasn't like the Wards needed to be impressed with him, anyway. He would only be a part of their lives for a couple of years, at the most, and then he and Grant would be happily divorced, pretending that none of this had ever happened. He'd get to keep his job, Grant would get a shiny new one, and everything would come up roses.

Except for the tiny issue of the interview on Monday.

“Yes, Jemma, I'm quite aware.” He said, dropping a pair of jeans into his opened suitcase. Jemma hovered for a second before seeming to approve their presence. Another second, and she tugged them from the case to refold them nicely. She was very motherly, that way. While Leo appreciated it, he appreciated, even more, that his best friend was here, now, to talk him through this and make him feel like he had a better handle on everything than he knew he did. If he faked the confidence, it would come. Fake it 'til you make it, and all that.

“I can't believe you let your visa expire.” Jemma admonished, laying the jeans back in the case, and shaking her head at the shirt he was pulling out of his closet. “You knew that it was coming up, considering I was getting my paperwork in order long ago.” She sighed. “I should have pushed you to have yours done when mine was. Then we wouldn't be in this situation.”

Leo didn't answer her. He was fully aware that this was on him. He could help her run the most successful branch of the company in the whole of North America, but when it came to filing personal paperwork, he'd dropped the ball. He'd fumbled and dropped the ball, and now he was hoping against hope that Grant Ward would carry that ball through to the goal, with him in tow. Or, touchdown. Something like that, he was never really a fan of American football.

Grant Ward was Leo's ace in the hole, but he came with conditions. One, his promotion. That wouldn't be a problem, there were always others that could replace him as Leo's assistant. Lydon, for instance, looked promising. The big issue, the one that was glaring at him in the guise of a light blue folder on his bed next to his suitcase, was that he needed to know Grant as intimately as Grant knew him. And he had to learn all those pesky, intimate little details in just over 48 hours, while they traveled to Massachusetts and back. Not to mention, he had to play nice with Grant's family – who he didn't know a thing about, aside from that his grandmother was very important to him – and convince them that their son was head over heels in love with him.

Yeah, this weekend was going to be a piece of cake. Very stale cake.

“It will be fine. Grant's agreed to everything, we just need to pass off this weekend, have a little wedding, spend a few months around each other, and then everything will be fine. We get a divorce, and you and I go back to running this company with no issues.” He grinned. “And next time I'll make sure I do my paperwork with you.”

Jemma frowned at him. “You're making it sound like it's going to be so easy. How can you know that it's going to be?”

“I'm keeping my chin up, for starters.” Leo answered, but her concern made him waver. “I know this could all... blow up in my face, Jemma. I'm grasping at straws, here. I don't want to be deported.”

“And I don't want you to, because who knows who they'd put into your position. But this is a very, very shaky fix. And you're going to have to learn a lot about Grant, I mean...” She picked up the blue folder from the bed, and flipped it open, reading off the first question. “What is his middle name?”

Leo pursed his lips, thinking. “Douglas. I think.”

“You have to do better than think. You have to know.”

“Fine,” Leo huffed. “I know.”

“Date of birth?”

Leo faltered, digging in his mind for the answer. “Ahm. I know it's in the winter, sometime?”

“January.” Jemma supplied. “Place of birth?”

“Who actually knows that about their fiance?”

“Place of birth?” Jemma repeated, giving him a stern look over the top of the folder. She wasn't going to let this go lightly.

“Massachusetts. Somewhere.”

“You'll need to do better than 'winter' and 'Massachusetts', Leo.” She scolded. “Does he has any scars, birthmarks or tattoos?”

“I haven't seen him naked, so I wouldn't know.”

Jemma smirked. “I'm sure he's _quite_ the sight when he's naked.”

Leo grinned. “Yeah. All those...” He gestured to his own arms and chest. “Muscles? I bet he looks like a Greek god under all those clothes.”

Jemma smirk didn't waver. “His fiance would probably know whether or not he looked like a Greek god under his clothes.”

Leo frowned. “Next question.”

“Any pets?”

“He probably has a dog?”

“Allergies?”

“I'm going to go with... no?”

“Favourite food.” The look on Jemma's face was far from impressed. Leo frowned, thinking about the answer for a moment, and she sighed, exasperated. “Leo! Even I know that Skye's favourite food is deep dish pizza from a place in Chicago near her dad's!”

“We don't talk about food!” Leo burst out, defensive.

“Or, clearly, anything at all!” Jemma countered. “I can't believe this! I can answer plenty of these questions about Skye, nevermind answering _all of them_ about Trip! And all you can answer is his middle name?” She shook her head, closing the folder and dropping it on his bed. Her tone had softened by the next time she spoke, but she sounded much more worried than she had before. “You're going to be in real trouble if you don't learn these answers and learn them fast.”

“I know. I'm going to study hard on the flight up there.”

“Grant is going to be in real trouble if you don't learn these answers, and learn them fast.”

She had a very real point. The reality of not passing the interview on Monday meant, yes, that he would be deported back to Scotland, with no hope of returning to the United States any time soon, and that was bad enough. But, for Grant, it meant time in prison, and a hefty fine that Leo knew he wouldn't be able to pay. Not easily.

“I know.”

Jemma pushed the folder towards him with a solemn look. “Then make sure that you learn them. I want to be watching you walk down an aisle to your fake marriage, not walking down a gangway to your real deportation.”

 

*

 

“This is unreal.”

Grant snorted, rolling his eyes and watching out the window as the plane flew. It wasn't a long flight from New York up to Boston, but it felt like it was taking an eternity. Especially with Leo Fitz beside him, asking him personal questions in a quiet, hushed tone. “What about me having a dog is unreal?”

“You named it Buddy, for starters.”

Grant turned a flat stare on Leo. “And?”

“Well... That's kind of a funny name for a dog. Not very imaginative, don't you think?”

“You want a pet monkey that you can name Henry, I don't think you get to tell me anything about what I named my dog when I was ten.” Grant pointed out. The plane would be landing soon, they would be meeting up with at least some of his family, for the drive up to Manchester. He hoped against hope that his mother wouldn't be in attendance. He'd called the night before, once Skye had left, and spoke to his father for a little while, explaining that he was going to be bringing his boyfriend, and that said boyfriend was, well, actually, the boss that he'd complained about in the past. That had been met with silence and then a very slow “Okay.” His father hadn't known what to make of it, and while Grant was sure his mother wouldn't either, he suspected that she would be the more outspoken of his two parents. She always had been, even though she had married into the Wards. Gramzy had always said that she had that stubborn and outspoken spirit that they tended to exhibit.

The best that Grant could hope for was that his father be the one there to pick them up. He didn't know if Thomas or Charlotte were in town, yet, or if they were even coming, and Christian had a family of his own to worry about, and was unlikely to pile his son and wife into the car to come pick up his brother from the airport.

“There's nothing wrong with wanting a pet monkey.” Leo muttered.

“Named Henry.” Grant breathed. Leo didn't reply, just scowled a little harder at the folder in front of him, and continued filling in answers to things they had discussed since the boarding had begun. At least he was taking this seriously. If he continued to do that, they had a fighting chance at getting out of this with their freedom intact.

The plane touched down without incident, and the two of them set to getting their things in order, Leo haphazardly shoving things back into his carry-on bag. “So, how far is it from here to our hotel?”

“About forty minutes.” Grant answered, shuffling down the aisle behind Leo as they disembarked. “We'll get driven into Manchester, and check in, and then probably have to head up to my parents' place for a while.” He paused, watching Leo cheerily thank the stewardess, before nodding to her and following along. “Make the announcement then, I guess.”

“Seems like the most logical choice.” Leo agreed. “The whole family together, I assume.”

“I assume.” Grant echoed. Christian and Anna would probably be there with Holden eventually, even if Thomas and Charlotte hadn't gotten into town yet. His mother and father would be there, and Gramzy, of course. His parents, at least, were important for the truthfulness of the their ruse to hold up.

It took nearly half an hour for them to retrieve their luggage, and by the time they pushed out of the doors into the parkade, Leo was whining about being hungry. Of course he was. Grant rolled his eyes, for what felt like the fiftieth time since they'd met up that morning, and opened his mouth to tell Leo that he should have eaten before they left New York, but he was cut off by a loud shout.

“Heeeeeey big brother!”

There was the sound of sneakers slapping on pavement, and someone threw themselves into Grant's side, in a lanky bear hug that nearly toppled him into Leo.

Thomas.

“You're gonna make him fall over, moron.” Came another voice, female, laughter in her tones. Grant slung one arm around Thomas, hugging him back as best he could while keeping his duffel bag up on his opposite shoulder, and turned. Charlotte was walking towards the three of them, her long hair clipped up in an artful mess, black peacoat open, arms spread in welcome. “Hey, Grant.” Her eyes fell on Leo, in presumably the same instant as Thomas' did, because she said, “You must be Leo.” In the same instant that Thomas said, “Heeeeey, big brother's squeeze!” directly into Grant's ear.

Thomas detached himself from Grant, holding out his hand to Leo, who was looking back and forth between the siblings like he still hadn't gotten his bearings. He probably hadn't. Thomas hadn't really given him the chance to get his feet back under him. Nevertheless, he shook Thomas' hand, and then Charlotte's.

“Nice to meet you both.” He paused, like he was pulling up his mental directory of what Grant had just told him on the flight over – because that was precisely what he was doing. “You must be Thomas and Charlotte.”

Thomas grinned, pushing a hand back through his dark flyaway hair. “Yeah! Grant's told you about us, then?” Grant made a gesture that they should keep walking, and Charlotte muttered that the car was 'just over here', before turning to lead the way.

“Of course,” Leo beamed, following along. “He's told me all about you two, and Anna.”

Grant winced. Thomas' eyebrows drew together, and Charlotte glanced back, eyebrows raised.

“I mean, Christian!” Leo amended. Grant could almost see him kicking himself for messing that up. Two brothers, one sister, not two sisters, one brother.

“Oh my god!” Thomas whooped a laugh that bounced back off the walls of the parkade. “Oh man, I can't wait to tell Christian that one.” He shot Leo a grin. “You're right to have suspected Anna was the true Ward. She's a lot cooler than Chris.”

“ _Christian_.” Charlotte corrected in a haughty, put on accent. “Don't call him _Chris,_ Thomas, it's positively _juvenile_.”

“What, did Chris become English in my time away?” Grant asked, grinning. Thomas blew a raspberry.

“No, but he's sure inserted a stick up his ass like they got.” His eyes slid to Leo and he grinned apologetically. “Sorry, man, no offense.”

“None taken,” Leo held up a hand. “Besides, I'm Scottish. Please, insult the English all you want, I'm an open ear.”

There he was. The charming Leo Fitz who got so many people to fall in love with him and sign up with Shield Sciences. It was definitely working on Thomas and Charlotte. Grant's baby brother and sister both lit up, and Charlotte shot Grant a thumbs up. She liked him.

Grant didn't want to think about how let down she would be if she found out this whole thing was a ruse. A sham. A criminal affair concocted to keep Leo from going back to Scotland.

They made it to the car, a white SUV that looked barely broken in. From the proud smile on Charlotte's face, Grant suspected it was hers. “Nice wheels, sis,” he commented, tugging the rear hatch open. “When did you-- Gramzy!”

Sitting comfortably in the passenger seat, positively beaming as she turned to look at them through the open back hatch, his grandmother waved, clearly pleased with herself for surprising him with her presence. “Grant, it's so good to see you, sweetie.”

“Good to see you, too!” Grant said, tossing his duffel bag into the trunk, and leaving Leo there to do the same with his as he went around the front of the SUV and opened the passenger side door to hug his grandmother. “I didn't know you were going to come meet us at the airport.”

“It wasn't like I was busy with anything else.” Gramzy answered. She reached up to squeeze his chin, tugging him in to lay a big kiss on his cheek. She was the only person in his life he would allow to get away with something like that. Particularly with Leo watching from beside the taillight, looking amused. “And I haven't seen you in so long. Of course I was going to come.” She leaned out a little bit further and caught sight of Leo, extending her hand to him. “Well, aren't you a handsome one.”

“And aren't you beautiful,” Leo replied, not missing a beat.

Gramzy gasped, and smiled. “Ooh, and he's Scottish.” She winked at Grant. “You're a sucker for the ones with accents, aren't you?”

Grant laughed, surprising himself at how much it _didn't_ sound forced. “It's a weakness.”

Leo grinned, leaning into his side. “But I have a weakness for strong cheekbones, so it all worked out, didn't it?”

Grant smiled down at him. “It sure did.”

“You two are disgustingly adorable.” Thomas said, clasping his hands dramatically.

“Shut up, Thomas.” Grant and Charlotte replied in near unison. Grant gave his younger sister a nod, and she saluted back.

“What was your name again, dear?” Gramzy asked Leo, ignoring her grandchildren's squabbling.

“Leo.” He answered. “And what should I call you?”

“Well, my name's Sarah,” Gramzy answered. “But Grant has called me Gramzy ever since I was putting cream on his cute little butt, so you can call me Gramzy, too.”

Grant felt the flush creeping up his neck and along his hairline. “Thanks for telling him I was prone to diaper rash as a kid, Gramzy.”

“Of course, love.” She answered, winking at him. “Now, get in, get in. We have a long way to drive to get you both settled in before people show up!”

Grant held open the back door for Leo, climbing in after him. Thomas climbed in from the other side, the two Ward brothers effectively boxing Leo in between them. Charlotte got behind the wheel and started the ignition, waiting patiently for everyone to get their seatbelts on. Leaning against the door so Leo could dig his out from between them, Grant frowned. “Settled in? You mean at the hotel? And what people? Christian, Anna and Holden?”

“Ahh...”

Grant glanced at Thomas, who looked like he was hesitating to be the one to spill the beans.

“Gramzy canceled your hotel reservation.” Charlotte answered when Thomas didn't. “There's plenty of room at the house.”

“More than enough room,” Gramzy assured. She meant well, Grant knew, but it was taking all of his strength not to look down at Leo and gauge his reaction to all this. “And we're having a little potluck to welcome you home. Sort of a pre-party to my party on Sunday.”

“Oh,” Grant said, aware that the smile slowing spreading over his face probably looked as fake as it felt. “That'll be... fun.”

It looked like he and Leo were going to have to step up their game. They wouldn't have to be on just when they were at the house. They would have to be on every minute of every hour, until they left on Sunday night.

At least it would be good practice for when Monday came. That was what Grant told himself as they left Logan and got onto the highway headed up the coast. All he and Leo had to do was be a believable couple from the moment they woke up to the minute they fell asleep, for the next few days.

It couldn't be that hard.

 

*

 

“I thought your grandmother said it was going to be a small potluck...”

Grant resisted the urge to wince, standing at the top landing of his parent's expansive home. The house had been a point of contention that the two of them had argued about, only moments ago, in low, hissing tones.

Apparently, Leo hadn't prepared himself for the fact that his assistant's family was extremely well off. Not only did they own a huge, gorgeous, Colonial home, no, no. That huge, gorgeous, Colonial home was on the water, at the very edge of the part of Manchester that reached into the Atlantic, with its own dock, and boats. Behind the house was a small barn, more decoration than anything – not that Leo had let Grant explain that – and between the two, a large, in-ground pool.

All in all, Grant supposed it did present a rather different image of him than he tended to present in New York. There had been something said about the fact that the house had more baths than bedrooms – ten to nine – by Thomas, while Leo had been unsuccessfully trying to keep his chin off the floor of the SUV. Then, of course, there was the fact that the Wards were, for all intents and purposes, pretty isolated from the rest of their neighbours. This place, more than anything, really illustrated the kind of world that Grant came from. He could understand, given that they were going to attempt to bullshit their way through a relationship test in a few days time, why Leo was a bit flabbergasted and annoyed that this wasn't something that he'd brought up before.

They hadn't met his mother, yet, though.

“Gramzy tends to undersell things.” Grant offered, watching the people milling around below them. Old high school friends, friends of his parents, friends of his grandmother, and people he was fairly sure he had never met in his life, were jostling past each other, trading hellos as they did, and asking after each other's children like Manchester wasn't a small town and they didn't already know all the gossip about each other's broods.

“I'm getting that,” Leo sighed. A lot of the fight seemed to go out of him, after their argument in the bedroom. The bedroom that had been specifically picked out by Gramzy, because it was the biggest, with the best view of the water, its own balcony and en suite bathroom, and, in her opinion, the biggest, most comfortable bed.

One bed.

Singular.

For the two of them.

Grant had already dug into the closet in the guest room and pulled out a stack of blankets to make up the couch that was pushed against the wall opposite the bed. No, it wouldn't exactly be the most comfortable, but it was only for a few days, and it was either that or not sleep at all, for fear that his body would betray him, and he'd wake up sharing a bed with Leo Fitz and his own morning wood.

That would be just too awkward to handle, on top of all the other stresses they were juggling. Sure, they needed to sell their relationship, but they could do that without not being able to meet each other's eyes for a good few hours after waking up.

“It's just for a few hours, and it will be fine. Just...” Grant waved a hand. “Be your charming self, and I'll handle my family.”

Leo snorted, leaning away from the railing, and not looking at Grant. “Your previously unmentioned old money rich family...”

“Can we not do this again?” Grant asked, in an undertone. To himself, he could admit that there had been a certain swoop of victory that had come over him when Leo saw the Ward family home. At least, in this, he had the upper hand. And, confirmation that Leo had underestimated exactly what he had come from. “We're supposed to be a happy couple. We need to sell it, not just to May, but to my family, too. Maybe try not to forget that they're going to get drilled on us, too.” Thinking about his poor, aged, sweet, kindly grandmother being drilled by stone-faced May, only to find out that her grandson was helping someone out to scam the government didn't make Grant feel very good. They had to sell this, at least for her sake.

She would be able to handle a divorce, down the line. Finding out that Grant was willingly conning the government for a leg-up? That might not be so easy for her to swallow.

Plus, Christian would get far, far too much enjoyment out of it.

And out of damning his brother for the media, posing himself as the bastion of good behaviour, as all Americans hoped their politicians to be.

“Sorry.” Leo muttered in a clipped tone, before taking a breath, his eyes closed. When he opened them again, he was smiling from ear to ear, a sincere enough looking grin that even Grant felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He was bound to win over all the people downstairs. “Shall we?”

“It's now or never,” Grant agreed, putting on a smile of his own, before leading the way towards the stairs. “You remember everyone's names?”

“Charlotte, sister, baby of the family. Aspiring novelist. Lives in Boston. Thomas, youngest brother. Aspiring musician. Band is called...” Leo hesitated a second. “The Howling Hours? Actually pretty good. Lives in Chicago. Christian, oldest brother. Politician, state senator. Republican.” He shot Grant a dubious look at that one. Christian was the trouble card of his three siblings, and Leo had been made well aware of that. Something of a bully when they had been kids, he'd grown a bit estranged from his younger siblings, particularly when his political career had begun to take off. “His wife's name is Anna, their son's name is Holden. Your grandmother – Gramzy,” Leo winked here. “Is actually Sarah Ward, and your grandfather was Robert. Parents are Douglas – who your middle name comes from – and Elaine.”

He looked rather proud of himself, and, if Grant admitted it, he was pretty impressed as well. From having confused Anna as the sibling, to having all of this memorized, in the space of an hour, was good. Maybe they had a shot at passing this test.

“Very good.” Grant said, not holding back the praise. “Now... Ready to meet them?”

Leo blew out a breath, looking at the stairs in front of them that led down into Manchester community chaos. “Do I have a choice?”

Grant rolled his eyes. “Not cute.”

They made their way into the teeming mass of people, Grant giving his hellos, and how are yous, and introducing Leo as they went along. For the most part, it went well. It was New England, after all. Massachusetts. Generally, no one was going to react badly to their relationship, in fact, many of the people who had been his teachers, growing up, were happy to see that he'd found someone. Grant endured the teasing and the comments, hoping that Leo was storing away the knowledge that he was gathering about Grant's past. There was no telling what would be important, and what might enhance an answer, come Monday.

Everything was going as well as could be expected, and Grant had felt the knot in his chest loosen. Leo was getting on with people, Thomas and Charlotte were weaving around the crowd, giving their own hellos, chatting with people. Thomas was just escorting their grandmother past when a hand came down on Grant's shoulder, and someone cleared their throat. A second later, a quiet, bright voice said, “Hi, Uncle Grant!”, giving away who it had to be that had their hand on his shoulder. Leo's eyes had darted over, looking the newcomer up and down, sizing him up. Grant wondered what his boss saw. He hadn't gone into details about Christian, about the kind of person that he really was. Grant had to wonder if Christian's true nature showed on his face when Leo looked at him. Considering the fact that Christian was a politician, Grant had to guess that it didn't; it would be carefully hidden behind that benevolent mask that he always tended to wear when he was doing interviews.

True, Christian had become easier to deal with as they'd all gotten older, but he was far from Grant's favourite sibling.

He was kind of an asshole.

That was what made it hard to understand how he'd married someone as sassy and fun as Anna, and how their son, Holden, was such a sweet kid. Maybe he'd gotten more of Anna in him than Christian.

Steeling himself, Grant turned, smiling at his older brother. “Christian.”

“Grant.” Christian greeted. As suspected, he was wearing that interview smile, mask carefully crafted. Had they been alone, Grant was sure his brother would let his distaste show. Grant hadn't been home in, well, years. Grant was pursuing a career that was beneath their family (in Christian's eyes, all of his siblings were, a thought he'd inherited from their mother). Grant had brought home his _boss_ , who was apparently his _boyfriend_. Grant couldn't wait to see what happened when Christian found out that Leo wasn't just his boyfriend, he was his fiance. “It's been a while.”

“It has. I've been,” Grant gestured loosely. “Busy.” He tore his attention away from his brother and turned it, instead, towards his nephew, holding up a hand for a high five, that Holden gladly delivered. “Hey, kid. You're getting _big_.”

“I am.” Holden nodded proudly, an almost smug smirk on his face as he planted his hands on his hips. “Soon I'm gonna be taller than you _and_ dad.”

Grant laughed. “Definitely taller than your dad.” He didn't need to look at Christian to know that his brother was tight-lipped at that. Christian and Grant were the same height, though Grant was able to boast a few centimeters more, depending on how tall he was standing and how long his hair had gotten. Thomas was taller than both of them by the slightest, smallest fraction. It irked Christian to no end. Charlotte, of course, had ended up quite a bit shorter than the three of them, but it was no consolation to Christian. His brothers were taller than him. It was a point of contention that shouldn't have existed at their age.

That didn't mean it wasn't fun to take advantage of.

“I think I can even be taller than Uncle Thomas.”

Grant's eyes widened and he grinned. “Really? You've got a long way to go, Holden.”

Holden, however, had been distracted from his uncle, eying, instead, the man standing just to his left. Leo. It only took one glance at Christian for Grant to figure out why Holden was now fixated on him; Christian had held out his hand to Leo, the quietest revenge on Grant for bringing up how his son might bypass him in height; introducing himself without Grant as an immediate buffer.

“You must be Leo.”

“Uncle Grant, is that your _boyfriend_?” Holden asked, whispering the question, but whispering the title even quieter.

“That would be me.” Leo was saying, shaking Christian's hand. Confidence and defiance radiated off him. Leo had recognised, in Christian, someone who took pride in their appearance they gave off. Leo was well acquainted with that, given that he was in such a position of power in Shield Science. “And since you're the last sibling I had to meet, I guess you must be Christian.”

“Yeah,” Grant answered his nephew, in a matching undertone. “That's my... boyfriend.”

Holden smiled. “Okay.”

Just like that, it was fine for the little guy to understand it. That was refreshing. Christian wasn't exactly outspoken against same-sex relationships, but offering his support for them wasn't an issue at the top of his platform, either. Holden reacting the way he had was promising. Christian, hopefully, wouldn't be too much of an ass this weekend. Especially given what was coming when Grant and Leo got his family alone.

“It's good to meet you.” Christian said. “Grant doesn't visit home very much, much less with anyone he's dating, so you must be...” His pause was significant, and heavy. For what reason, Grant didn't know. “Something special.”

“He is.” Grant filled in, jumping on the opportunity.

“He's also the boss that you've complained about being finicky, high-strung and immature, before, isn't he?”

Grant could have punched Christian in the arm hard enough to bruise, right then. Of course, typical Christian. Couldn't have a conversation without solidifying his place at the top of the food chain. Leo was looking at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

“Sure is.” Grant said, plastering on a sweet smile as false as Christian's matching one. “'Course, that was before I really got to know him... Obviously.” He turned a fond smile on Leo. “Got to know him and that really, really changed.”

Leo smirked, and rolled his eyes. “I can be a handful, sometimes.” He winked at Christian. “Grant's figured out how to handle me, though. Do you two mind? I'm just going to run to the washroom...” He pointed that way, excusing himself.

Grant nodded and waved him away, waiting until he was out of hearing distance before checking to make sure Holden was distracted, and hissing, “Why'd you have to bring that up?”

Christian smiled. “I just found it so interesting how you went from basically hating him to... Well. I'd use some choice words, but my son isn't standing far away.”

Grant pursed his lips, taking a deep breath. “Just wait, Chris. You're going to see just how far we've come, by tonight.”

Christian looked confused by his words, eyebrows furrowing. Grant didn't bother to elaborate, though, and he didn't ask. Instead, he asked, “Have you seen mom yet?”

Grant sighed. Yes. They'd very briefly seen his mother when they had arrived, but they hadn't spoken to her, and he wasn't sure if she was actually conscious of the fact that he was there. Their mother, Elaine, would be busy doing her hostess thing. Laughing and making sure everyone was enjoying the get-together, gossiping and catching up with people she hadn't seen for a few months. Elaine Ward was a certain kind of creature, and the kind of creature she was made Grant's stomach twist.

She was going to be the most difficult part about selling this whole engaged story.

“Saw her. Didn't speak to her.”

Christian nodded. “She was just as confused as me to hear that you were dating the boss you had claimed to hate.”

“I just bet she was,” Grant's tone was sardonic and cold, and he didn't care if anyone overheard. Christian was being an ass, and he deserved no more than that.

A shrug was the only reply that Christian gave. Leo was coming back through the crowd, being stopped to suffer introductions from the kindly women milling around the first floor of the house. “I'm interested to see how tonight goes.”

“Real glad to see you're still an asshole, Chris.” Grant replied, smiling coolly at his brother.

“Christian.”

Grant shrugged, and moved away, hooking Leo's arm and tugging him through the crowd, towards the other side of the house. Leo went without protest, waiting until they'd put at least one room between themselves and Christian before he said, “So. Christian is a bit of an asshole, yeah?”

Grant snorted, and nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Noted.” Leo said, and when Grant looked down at him, he was smiling, conspiratorially, like the two of them were sharing some big secret, rather than a common understanding. He couldn't help but smile in response.

All in all, Leo was doing really well, handling his family. Gramzy, his siblings. He had taken them all in stride, and while it was no stretch to say that he got on better with his grandmother and younger siblings, at least he had handled Christian, and he was bearing everyone who had shown up for this 'small potluck'. Grant made a mental note to question his grandmother about her definition of a 'small potluck' once everyone had gone home. He suspected she'd used it so that they wouldn't get spooked off. She was crafty like that.

The potluck went on for another couple of hours, before people started filtering out. They had caught glimpses and snatches of Grant's parents through the whole thing, but the universe seemed to be hellbent on keeping them from talking to each other while there were guests in the house. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. On one hand, maybe it was so that they could have strictly family time for when Grant made his false announcement. On the other, maybe the universe was trying to protect their guests from seeing a Ward family blow up. They were truly spectacular, but not something any outsider should be privy to. The universe was more than likely _not_ sparing Leo, only because it was Leo's oversight that had gotten them into the position to cause a blow up in the first place.

Grant really hoped it was the former, but he suspected the latter was the reason why they hadn't been able to get more than a glimpse of either his mother or father all afternoon.

The final guests finally bundled themselves up and left, and Grant felt the knot in his chest return.

It was time.

“Well, that was... A little crazy.”

Elaine Ward stepped briskly into the sitting room where Grant, Leo, Thomas, Gramzy and Charlotte were, listening to Anna talk about something that had happened at the little shop she owned and ran in town. Holden was spread on the floor, playing some game involving colourful bricks on his mother's cellphone. Elaine waited a beat to see if she was interrupting Anna, and, when nothing happened, she surged forward.

“Sorry, I didn't get a chance to meet you. Busy, you know.” She was talking to Leo, walking towards him with her hand out. Grant instinctively got to his feet, hauling Leo up with him, and watched as they shook hands, Elaine engulfing Leo's in both of hers, holding on to him like that so he couldn't dare run away. Watching his mother's manicured, soft hands cover Leo's, Grant felt a strong urge to step between them, keep his boyfriend – boss – from her. His mother wasn't a bad woman, exactly, but she was demanding, she expected a lot, and she had pushed them all, as children. It was no secret that she wasn't proud of what her youngest children had accomplished. Just her presence was enough to make Grant tense, expecting a disparaging comment about his career choice. Especially because the man standing in front of her, now, was his boss. His boss, and his boyfriend. Elaine probably had some wild idea about how Leo had corrupted him into his career, made him settle for less than the Wards were good for, because he was twitterpated over the Scotsman.

That realization made Grant feel even edgier than he'd been before. Thankfully, his father entered the room then, trailed by Christian, and introduced himself to Leo, breaking the hold Elaine had on him.

Douglas Ward was a formidable man in his own way, but anyone close to the Wards knew that it was Elaine who was the head of the family. Douglas tended to let her do as she pleased, and only interceded here and there, to make bland observations that 'maybe' she was being too hard on the kids. Grant's father had taken over the family business from his father before him, and it had grown under his direction. The company now owned a good amount of the properties in Manchester, due to the fact that Douglas had worked tirelessly there while his wife had worked tirelessly at home, turning their children into little success stories like the family business.

Grant didn't resent his father for not noticing their mother was particularly hard on them, but he did wish maybe there had been a little more of a presence in their childhood.

“Nice to meet you, son.” Douglas greeted. “You know, you're the first, uh, lover, Grant's brought up here. You must be something special.”

“I like him.” Gramzy cut in. She was smiling in her chair, holding a glass of wine. “And he's very good-looking.”

Charlotte laughed. “Don't you start, Gram.”

Gramzy laughed, too, and it struck Grant how similar her laugh and Charlotte's were. He'd been away too long. “I'll try to restrain myself. If I can say, Grant, you have very good taste, sweetie.”

Leo, for his part, actually looked a bit red. His cheeks were bright with colour and red had crept up the back of his neck, disappearing into his hair. Reaching over, Grant covered that spot with his hand, fingers ghosting over the skin before he settled his palm on Leo's far shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. Leo looked his way, smiling, small but sweet.

“You're all so welcoming. It's nice, a good start to our visit.”

Thomas cut in, “Minus the whole town cramming into our house because Gramzy got overexcited over Grant's _boooyfriend_.” He grinned, leaning towards their grandmother, enough for her to reach over and tweak his nose.

“I'll do the same when _you_ bring someone home, Tommy-Boy, so don't get comfortable.”

“I didn't mind.” Leo said, still smiling. “It was nice to meet... everyone.”

Elaine nodded. “Yes, there was a lot of everyone.” She looked between Leo and her son, and Grant could see the question on her tongue. Why had Grant brought him here? What was so special about Leo Fitz that warranted dragging him to Massachusetts to endure his family and all of their many, many friends?

The question was coming, whether Grant beat her to it, or not. It was probably best that he beat her to it. Chances were that her word choice would be less than desirable.

“Uh, actually, now that we're just us, here.” He started, tugging Leo into his side. It wasn't the most eloquent opener, but it got everyone's attention immediately. Thomas closed his mouth, and Charlotte straightened her posture, clearly paying attention now. Gramzy leaned back in her seat, and Christian's eyebrows went up. Holden looked up from Anna's phone, and Anna set down her own glass of wine, a hint of a smile playing around her lips, and Grant's parents both blinked, taking a second to let his words sink in before they, too, found themselves seats, Elaine making a 'go on' gesture.

Grant took a breath. This was it. The big lie.

He hoped they could sell it.

“Leo and I are engaged. We're going to be getting married.”

The reaction was delayed, like everyone had to let that news get past their belief that Grant would never really settle down, particularly not with his boss. Then, everyone started talking at once, and Grant felt Leo tense under his arm.

“When did this happen?”

“LISTEN. I better be your best man.”

“Oh, Grant, that's wonderful!”

“Holy shit.”

“Another uncle!”

“You better not be joking, boy, I'm old, my heart can't take the let down!”

That last one sunk into Grant's bones. His grandmother _was_ old. How would she take it if she ever found out that this was all a farce? He couldn't let that happen.

The questions kept coming, and Leo laughed, holding up a hand.

“Um, I know that this is... really sudden, and I'm happy I got to meet you all before Grant told you, even if it... Wasn't by much.” Leo looked up at Grant, still wearing that small, sweet smile. He was selling this very well. They could do this.

“My fault.” Grant admitted. “And, Tom, you're going to have to fight Charlie for best man status.” The snub against Christian was deliberate, but no one seemed to notice, Charlotte immediately leaning forward and shaking a fist at her older brother.

“When did this happen?” His mother repeated. She was smiling, but it looked stiff. Annoyed, maybe. Grant could think of a multitude of reasons why that might be, but he didn't want to linger on any of them.

“Ah, a few weeks ago?” He tried, looking to Leo, who pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, the image of hard thought. He probably shouldn't have to think _that hard_ about it, but Grant was willing to give him a pass.

“Fourteen days ago, actually. So, two weeks.” Leo said, tone firm and sure. “And it was so romantic.”

Grant's gut clenched. Two seconds before he'd been relieved that Leo was giving such a specific date for the proposal. Now, well. Now, he was scared. He'd been Leo's assistant for a few years, now, and he knew the penchant the other had for spinning stories, usually as parts of pranks. Here, though, he could come up with something absolutely ridiculous, and his family would gobble it up as truth.

“Oh, oh, sit down and tell us!” Anna said, waving for them to take their seats again. Grant had forgotten that they had stood, he had been so focused on selling this whole thing. Now, Leo was guiding _him_ back down into the loveseat – and wasn't it ironic that it was on that piece of furniture that they had chosen to sit? - and crossing his legs.

“So, Grant and I had plans for dinner, two Fridays ago. We were going to get dinner, and then walk through Central Park. Just a very nice, calm evening after a hectic week. But, as I was getting ready, I got a message from Grant. Saying he would be a bit late, and would I mind getting our table at the restaurant.” Leo's fingers cut through the air, like he was dismissing any concern he would have had about _not_ getting the table. “Obviously, I did. Because, ah, I love food. Almost as much as I love Grant.” He leaned back, tilting his head to give Grant a big, goofy grin. Grant rolled his eyes, forcing a grin of his own. So far, this wasn't bad, but he was wary of where Leo would go next.

Gramzy, Anna and Charlotte, however, gobbled that line up, and Holden laughed. Thomas was grinning. All of them hooked on Leo's retelling of this entirely fictitious proposal.

“So, I get to the restaurant, and at our table, there's a folded note, telling me to go to Room 1211 in the hotel the restaurant is attached to.” He held up a hand here. “It's important to say, our first date was on the 12th of November. See what he did with the numbers?”

“Dork.” Thomas said, his grin not slipping an inch.

Charlotte agreed with a sage nod. “Huge dork.”

“He is.” Leo nodded along, patting Grant's knee. “So, of course, I went up to the room. He'd had them leave me a card key and everything. And when I opened the door, what did I see, but Grant, in this just... Very well cut suit. Holding a bouquet of roses, with a little stuffed monkey shoved in the middle.” Leo had some kind of weird fixation with monkeys. Of course he would work that into the story somehow. So far, this wasn't too terrible. Grant nodded along, rolling his eyes at himself in a ' _haha, how corny_ ' sort of way. “I love monkeys.”

There it was.

“And while I was standing there, trying to figure out what he was up to, he got down on one knee, and I noticed, in his other hand, well...” Leo held up his left hand, waggling his fingers. Jemma had had the foresight both of them had neglected, and had bought a ring that would pass as a man's engagement band, as long as no one looked at it under an eyeglass. “I said yes.”

“Grant,” Gramzy breathed. “I had no idea you were so romantic.”

“Me neither.” Christian chimed in, smirking. Of course, he found this amusing. Grant had to be pleased, though. The story Leo had crafted for them was far more impressive than the story of Christian proposing to Anna. Grant felt almost bad for her, because it hadn't really been thought through. More like Christian had gotten down on one knee at an Italian eatery, and popped the question. It was romantic, he guessed, in its own way.

“And then he started just... Oh, he _bawled_.”

Grant froze, giving Leo a jerky look.

“I think – well, I _know –_ my answer made him really happy.”

“Oh. Oh, _bro_.” Thomas reached for the tissue box on the coffee table. “Holden, c'mere, I need you to take these to uncle Grant, I think I see tears glistening in his eyes at the mere _memory_.”

“Oh, haha,” Grant said, monotone, but laughed when Holden rushed up to bring him the tissues. The kid was harmless, just trying to help. “Proposals are supposed to be emotional, y'know.”

“Very emotional, in his case,” Leo continued. “My jacket was just, there was just this big wet spot,” he patted his own shoulder. “Right here. Tears. So many tears.”

“All right, okay, I think that's enough.” Grant said, cutting Leo off before he could say any more. Leo laughed, all music and amusement, and for a second Grant forgot they were faking, forgot he wasn't actually in love with the sound of that laugh.

Well. That was weird.

“Well, I suppose we should probably celebrate this, shouldn't we?” Elaine asked.

“Oh, god, mom, no more potlucks.” Charlotte piped up.

Douglas spoke before his wife, stopping any potential argument that could have cropped up between her and their daughter. “How about dinner, just the family. Down at Ernesto's?”

“Oh, that would be nice.” said Anna. “They just finished renovating the private patio, too. I bet we could get seats out there. Have a really, really nice dinner to celebrate the engagement.” She smiled at Grant and Leo. “If, of course, you two were on board?”

Grant didn't want to say yes, not really. He wanted this announcement to be the end of having to pretend, to his family, that they were engaged, at least for right now. He knew, though, that wasn't possible. They had to go through the motions. All of them. Right down to the marriage ceremony.

That, they could figure out later.

“Well, Leo doesn't know Ernesto's but, _I_ do, and _I_ say, we're doing it.” He said, instead, and his words were met with big smiles, all around. “It's been way too long since I've eaten there. And like he said, he loves food.” Grant put his arm around Leo's waist. “You're going to love this place.”

Leo smiled brightly at him, and then at the rest of the family. “Can't wait.”

 

*

 

“I'm exhausted.”

“Yeah, I'm sure that thinking up that story really took it out of you.”

Leo didn't answer, and Grant looked over from setting up the couch for his bed. The other man was sitting, cross-legged, on the bed, in boxers and a threadbare t-shirt, staring flatly at him.

“What?”

“At least I came up with _something._ ” Leo supplied in response. “Unlike you. You just sat there, trying and _failing_ to create a believable romance. You might know everything about me, but--”

“--I was getting you involved in 'Our Story',” Grant corrected. “It would look kind of suspicious if I was the only one saying anything, you know?”

Leo didn't have an answer for that, and Grant turned back to the couch in triumph. Two blankets on the cushions, and a sheet and another blanket for him to lie under. He draped those over the back of the couch, and went back to the closet to find a spare pillow.

“You can sleep in the bed, if you want.” Leo said. “I'll take the couch.”

“Nah, it's fine.” Grant answered, still looking.

“It's small. And you're... Huge.”

“It'll be okay. I've slept on worse.”

A sigh. “Don't complain in the morning about a sore back.”

“Complaining is more your thing,” he mused, stepping back to frown at the closet. No pillows in it, whatsoever. That was weird, until Grant remembered the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. Turning back to Leo, he found him sitting with an expectant and annoyed look on his face, holding out a pillow. “Uh, thanks.”

“You want to take back that thing about complaining?”

Grant took the pillow and snorted. “I could have easily gotten this for myself.” Leo threw up his hands in response and shifted, moving to the head of the bed and pulling the blankets loose. He wormed underneath them, getting comfortable while Grant did the same on the couch. Once Grant was settled, he reached over and turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into gloom.

Silence stretched between them, and Grant turned onto his side, legs tucked up, chasing sleep. He was nearing there when Leo spoke up, his voice quiet, almost like he didn't want to disturb Grant, despite the fact that he was talking, and thereby doing that.

“Thank you for being there today. I can handle people, generally, but that was... a lot.”

Grant grunted, something Leo could take as acknowledgment or agreement, whichever he preferred.

“And thank you for handling your parents. They're... Well, your mother is intimidating.”

“Uh huh.”

A beat of silence, and then, “Am I bothering you?”

Grant sighed, rolling onto his back and opening his eyes, looking at the dark ceiling. “I was trying to sleep. I thought you were, too.” The next day was Saturday, and who knew what that meant. Going to Ernesto's meant at least a small boat trip, because it was a restaurant on an island just off shore. It was thought to add to the atmosphere of the whole restaurant. Grant thought it was a bit pretentious and unnecessary, but the food was good, so he'd suffer the boat ride.

Before Ernesto's, though, there was a whole day of being around his family and having to pretend that they were a happily, loving, engaged couple. They were going to need their sleep.

“I guess I should...”

“Mm.”

There was a shuffling sound from the bed, the sheets shifting while Leo turned over and got comfortable. Grant could see the silhouette of his shoulder, back to him now.

“Thanks for taking the couch, Grant.”

“Mm.” He replied again, closing his eyes, feeling the heaviness of sleep creep up on him again.

“Sleep good.”

“Y'too.”

When Leo spoke next, Grant could hear the smile in his voice. Maybe that was why he didn't think before he replied.

“Love you.”

“Y'too.” His reply registered and he grunted. “Hah.”

There was a soft snort from the bed. “Good night, Grant.”

“G'night.”

 

*

 

Grant knew a lot of things about Leo, that was pretty much common knowledge for everyone who knew the two of them. Grant was Leo's assistant, and had to know those things, in order to perform his assistant-y duties to the best of his ability. That was just how it was. That being said, Grant was well aware that there was a lot about Leo that he didn't know, and that was why this whole exercise was necessary. They needed to weed out anything that could come up in the interview.

The fact that Leo sprawled in his sleep was probably something that Grant should be taking note of.

He'd woken up to find the other spread across the bed, taking up as much of it with his tiny frame as he could. It was almost impressive, and Grant was sure he would have been impressed if he hadn't been working out his sore leg muscles from his night spent on the couch.

There was only one more to go, he could live with it.

Leaving Leo sprawled across the bed, he'd padded out of the room, closing the door clearly behind him. Another thing he was learning: Leo, maybe, was a heavy sleeper, and, given the chance, he didn't like to wake up early. Grant filed those facts away for later, and made his way down to the kitchen, dressed in plaid boxers and a t-shirt of his own, a black feathered eagle emblazoned on the front. The kitchen – with its little breakfast nook – was empty save for Douglas and Elaine, who were sitting in the nook, nursing morning coffee – tea, in his mother's case – and browsing what Grant assumed to be the morning news on their iPads. Technology savvy parents of their age were hard for people of his age to find. He should count himself lucky.

“Morning.” He greeted, making his way to the bread box to get bread for toasting. Toast and orange juice for breakfast, and then maybe he'd go for a run. It sounded like a good start to the day.

“Good morning, dear.” Elaine greeted. Douglas nodded at him while he drank some of his coffee. “Did you and Leo sleep well?”

Grant forced a smile and shrugged. “I slept all right. I think he slept better than me, he's still up there, dead to the world.”

“That's nice.” His mother replied, and Grant felt his defenses go up. She was making it obvious that she was making small talk. He didn't like that, not at all. Elaine Ward making small talk meant, without fail, that she was leading up to something bigger. In Grant's experience, when it involved the two of them, it never ended well. He could only imagine what it was that she was leading up to this time, and thought he could actually feel his brain flipping through possibilities, trying to decide what was most likely.

The fact that he hadn't been home in years?

The fact that he hadn't bothered to seek _her_ out when he and Leo had arrived, and had instead waited for her to come to him?

The fact that he showed up with a fiance, after his long stretch of not bothering to talk to the family? That one wasn't technically true. He spoke, with his siblings and his grandmother, quite regularly. His mother, passive father, and asshole older brother were the only exceptions to that rule.

Maybe it had to do with Christian. Was she upset that he wasn't doing his best to support his brother's political career? Didn't he know how his engagement looked to more conservative voters?

And there was that, too. While Grant had long ago come to terms with his sexuality – a thing Skye had deemed to be “pansexual” - he suspected his mother hadn't, and probably never would completely accept it. It was all well and good when Grant was attracted to women, because that was what she had always expected for her second son. But when they were men? She was pleasant enough to their faces, but there was always snide little comments made to Grant, little 'are you sures' being repeated at least once a week.

And now? Now he was _engaged to a man_ , and, oh, mother probably didn't like that one bit. Add to that the fact that he wasn't pursuing the family business, ready to take over when his father retired, and she was probably extremely disappointed in Grant's life choices.

Grant was just settling himself to defend against whatever she brought up next, when his father spoke, quietly.

“Elaine, maybe not now? He's home for mom's birthday, and he's shared his news with us, and...” He trailed off. Both Grant and his mother were looking at him in two different states of shock. Elaine, that he was cutting her off, Grant, because his dad was actively standing up to his mother for once. He had a sudden urge to make a sarcastic comment about marking the calendar, but decided to forgo it. His father was, at the base of it, defending him against his mother; he shouldn't look that gift horse in the mouth.

“Doug, I might not get another chance, and you're not getting any younger.”

Oh.

Grant's toast popped. That's what this was about. The family business. Again. Grabbing a knife and plate, Grant slide over to the toaster, pulling his toast out and setting to work spreading butter over it, watching as it melted into the grains. His father sighed, but didn't say anything else, his defense defeated, as easily as ever.

“Grant, listen. I know you're engaged to your boss now, as weird as that is--”

“--Because it's _so weird_ to believe that I could be in love with someone who has a penis, right, mom?”

Grant surprised himself by actually saying that out loud, but didn't regret it. It was worth it for the look of mild shock on his mother's face.

“That was rude.”

“Well, it's true.” Grant said, turning with a piece of toast in hand. “Anatomically speaking. I know it's weird for you, mom, but it's 2015. Same sex marriage was just legalized country-wide a few months ago. It's time to stop pretending this kind of thing doesn't happen, and that it couldn't happen to one of your kids.” He took a bite of his toast and chewed, frowning, before speaking around it. “That made it sound like a bad thing. It's not.”

Elaine sighed, a grand thing, and muttered, “Don't talk with your mouth full.” Like it was a necessity that was expected of her. Then she plowed ahead. “That's all well and good, but that's not my only issue.” Ah, so she admitted that she had an issue with the fact that Leo was a man. “That, I can accept. It's your choice who you marry, and I will support you.”

_Aw, gee_ , Grant thought.  _Thanks for that, mom._ She could at least try not to sound like his choice was taking years off her life, but then again, Elaine was emotionally manipulative like that. Being out from under her thumb had done all of them a world of good. 

“But, with Christian having gone into politics, you're the next one in line to take over the family business.” She gave Grant a look that was both demanding and pleading. Like she couldn't settle on whether to be the authoritarian or the manipulator. “Your brother won't be able to, and your father isn't as young as he once was.” A little smile here, like this was a private joke between her and Grant, like Douglas was bothered at all by what she was saying. A quick glance at his father assured Grant that the man was only paying the minimum amount of attention, now that his weak attempt at thwarting things had failed. “You and Leo will be getting married, but I hope that this doesn't mean that you're going to be staying at that company forever. I imagine you can't, with the position you're in. It would be a conflict of interest. You'll have to find other work, and the business is right here, waiting.”

Grant raised his eyebrows. “And what is Leo supposed to do, while I'm here for work? Commute to New York, five hours, each way, every day?”

Elaine pursed her lips, and took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. Grant recognised that expression; he was used to feeling it on his own face when he was dealing with Leo. That realization jolted him with the reminder that the engagement and relationship he was so fiercely defending was a sham. Still, Leo was getting to stay in the country out of it. Grant should at least be afforded the chance to turn down the order he take over the family business. It was the least their sham could do for him.

“Perhaps he could stay in the city, during the week, while you're here, handling everything for your father. You'd see each other on weekends.”

“Mom, I've sort of gotten used to seeing him every day.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

The words caught in Grant's throat, having trouble getting past his incredulity that she would use such a cliché saying to try and wheedle him into doing this. “That's not exactly true.”

“Well, you just said, you see him every day.” Elaine pointed out. “How would you know whether or not it's true for the two of you?”

She was starting to get insufferable.

“Mom, listen.” He started, unintentionally putting on the tone he used when he wanted to sound just as authoritative as her. “I get it. Someone needs to take over the business, and dad is retiring soon. I know Christian is in politics, but you're forgetting, I have a job, too. A job I like. A job that I'm going to be getting to do new things in, with Leo and I getting married. I know that the business is important, and everything, but it's not what I want to do. You can respect that, can't you?” He waved a hand through the air, gesturing aimlessly. “I want to marry Leo, and live in New York, and work at Shield, and, fuck--” Elaine's frown deepened. “--Get to see my husband every night when I get home from work, not just on the weekends.”

The case that he was presenting, Grant thought, wasn't an uncooperative one. No, he wasn't cooperating with what Elaine wanted, but he was telling her what he needed to live a happy life. She always used the ' _I just want you to be successful and happy_ ' line with them, when she was trying to guide their choices the way she wanted. What Grant was laying out for his mother was what he wanted to do, what would make him both successful, and happy. How could she argue?

“This is very selfish of you, Grant.”

Apparently, by calling him selfish.

Again, the words got stuck in his throat, but this time they were trying to squeeze past the rage welling in him. The rage, and, in the parts of him that were still so obedient to mother dearest, shame.

“How do you figure?”

Elaine took her time answering, taking a long drink of her tea before she spoke again. “Who is going to take over?”

:Literally anyone!” Grant answered. “There are guys who have been working there for years, under dad, who know how the place works a whole lot better than me! One of them could take over!”

“They aren't Wards.”

“So _what_?” Grant asked. “The family business model only works for restaurants and gift shops. This is realty, this is... Whatever it is. Mom, any of the legacy guys there could take over. It doesn't have to be one of us. Hell, if that's what you want, you'd be shit out of luck, anyway, because it's not like Leo and I are going to be popping out any rugrats to keep up the tradition.”

Elaine took another sip of tea. “You could adopt.”

“You want us to adopt... So that we can raise our kid to take over Ward Realty.”

“That's not what I'm saying.”

Grant smirked, humourless. “Kind of what it sounds like, mom.”

She threw up her hands, shaking her head. “I just can't believe how selfish you're being about this, Grant. Honestly, I can't. I thought I raised you better, to have respect for your elders. Your parents, at the very least.”

Grant's blood was boiling. He could feel it, hissing through his veins, carrying all the rage he felt out of his heart and into his extremities. He didn't feel hungry, anymore, and he wanted to run. Run hard, and long, until his legs burned, and he didn't feel like punching a hole in the lavender painted wall next to him anymore.

“I guess you didn't do as good of a job as you thought, huh?”

Elaine looked affronted, and Douglas sighed his name, the only input he'd given since the conversation began, but Grant was already on his way out of the room, his toast only half finished, appetite gone. He was so riled he forgot that Leo was sleeping, and opened the door wide, not bothering to close it quietly behind him. He caught sight of the rumpled, sleeping form on the bed a split second before the door banged into its frame, and then Leo was sitting up, his curls a mess, looking startled.

“Oh.” He said, when he caught sight of Grant, and laid a hand over his heart. “It's just you.” Grant grunted, gathering up the blankets from the couch and shoving them into the closet. He'd set them up again, tonight, but for now, that would do. The room once again presented the image of a couple who slept in the same bed

Leo's voice was more awake, if quieter, when he spoke next. “Are you okay?”

Grant let out a breath, long and annoyed, though, not with the man in the bed. Leo was just looking out for him. It was nice, in a way. His siblings and grandmother were asleep, and they were the only other people in the house who would bother to ask how he was, and even then, they wouldn't do it in front of his mother.

Well, Gramzy would, but she would have choice words for her daughter-in-law if she knew what had gone on, so Grant would never bother to tell her the whole story.

Here, however, was Leo, still looking groggy from his interrupted sleep, legs tangled in the sheets, one shirt sleeve bunched up from how he was laying, and asking if Grant was okay. Grant had just woken him up by slamming the door, and he had every right to be annoyed. Especially because he didn't really need to ask after Grant's well-being. The deal didn't call for that, call for him to fake nice. But he was.

It was, in a weird way, a nice feeling.

“Just.... fought with my mom.” Grant said, by way of an explanation. It sounded the same as it would if his grandmother asked, and he added, “She has this thing about me taking over for dad, since Christian's a senator, and can't.”

“Oh.” Leo paused, looking confused. “But... You have a job, too.”

Grant laughed, humourless. “Do I? Because, she certainly seems to forget that. She's forgotten it enough that I'm pretty sure I'm going to start forgetting it, too.”

Leo smiled. “Don't do that. What'll I do without you?”

Grant was about to point out that he had Jemma, but thought better of it. This was an extension of Leo asking if he was okay; Leo making a comment to the point that he personally felt that Grant was particularly useful, and Leo couldn't operate without him around.

They might be able to pull off this real couple thing, after all.

Smiling back, Grant unzipped his duffel, rummaging through for another t-shirt and shorts. “I'm going to go for a run. If you're hungry, there's tons of food in the kitchen, and Thomas and Charlie should be up soon, so they'll protect you from my mom.” He looked up, standing with the clothes bunched in his hand. “Or, you can get more sleep. Or...” He eyed the laptop bag that Leo was pulling over from the bedside table. “You could work.”

Leo smiled. “I can amuse myself while you're gone. But, come back before two hours have passed? My stomach might eat itself, and your brother and sister are nice, but your mum scares me.”

Grant snorted, heading into the bathroom to change. “Yeah. She has that effect on people.”

 

*

 

Leo had made notes. He knew that might be weird, and he was running something of a risk, if he was found out, but he'd made notes. About Grant, about his family, about their home. For an hour, he'd sat in bed with the laptop on his knees, and instead of doing work, like Grant had suspected, he typed up his mental notes. He was getting quite the picture of the life and history of his assistant turned fake fiance, and it was making him more and more confident that they were going to pass the interview on Monday with flying colours. Of the questions contained in the packet they'd been given, Leo felt confident he could answer at least half with certainty. That just meant he needed to work on the other half. By the time they got onto their plane, he should be ready to carry this lie through to the other side of the immigration office's interrogation.

By the time he'd finished typing up his notes, Grant was still gone. He'd needed that run more than Leo had suspected. Through his very, very brief interactions with Elaine Ward, he could only imagine what she would have said. Leo wasn't the type to pass judgment, but the woman made him uncomfortable. There was just something about her, and the way her children acted around her, that made him edgy. He didn't want to trust her, and certainly didn't want to be left alone in a room with her. She didn't strike him as the kind of parent who held her _children's_ best interests above _her_ best interests for her children.

Leo didn't like that. Before she'd passed, his mother had proven herself to be an angel on earth. She had nothing in mind for him but what he deemed his best interests, and as long as he was happy and healthy, she supported him. She was kind, funny, and smart, and Leo missed her every day. Particularly more when he was reminded so starkly how lucky he was to have had her. He could have easily been in a situation like Grant, where it seemed Mrs. Ward treated her children more like employees and legacies, than her offspring.

Leo had drifted off, thinking about that, his laptop closed and off beside him on the bed. When he came to, again, another half hour had passed, and it didn't seem like Grant was back, yet. He'd have to give him hell for making him wait a full two hours to eat. His stomach was quiet, now, but Leo knew that once he started moving around, and making like he was starting his day, it would wake up, and with a vengeance.

The only thing for that was to beat it. After traveling the day before, Leo could do with a shower, and it would probably be best to face the rest of the Ward clan properly dressed and freshly showered. It might make him feel like he had brand new armour on, the kind that meant he was capable and could take care of himself. Present the image that he had everything together, and hopefully Mrs Ward wouldn't pick him apart.

Given that he was marrying her son, the son she wanted to take over the family business, and who was not doing that so that he could continue to work with Leo...

Well, Leo suspected she would be picking him apart whether or not he showered, but he still felt like having one would make him feel more capable and able to put up with whatever came his way.

Extracting himself from the bed, he padded over to his bag, getting out fresh clothes for the day, and his bathroom things. Setting those on top of the bed, he glanced toward the bedroom door, and then quickly stripped out of his boxers and t-shirt. It would just be easier to dress in the bathroom and emerge ready to face the day.

Tucking his night clothes into his bag, he hurried to the bathroom. He didn't remember the bathroom door having been closed, but he didn't remember it having been open, either. More than likely, it had been closed, like it was now, all night. Leo opened the door, and a waft of steam poured out, clinging to his skin, seconds before he walked into a bare chest.

“What the-- _Ohmygod_.”

Grant.

Of course, who else would it have been? Grant must have gotten in the shower after his run, sneaking past the dozing Leo to do so. He'd already proven adept at getting around Leo when he was asleep. For his part, Leo realized, he hadn't woken up on his own; the sound of the water – white noise – abruptly ending must have roused him from his little nap.

And now he was standing, stark naked, chest to chest with Grant Ward – who was naked, too, a towel in his hand, presumably having been about to go around his waist.

Leo put all of this together in the space of a second.

And then they both started talking at once. Leo apologising, Grant asking what the hell he was doing, walking around naked. Both of them backing away from each other, the towel finding its home around Grant's waist, Leo covering himself with his folded clothes.

“I was just going to shower!” He whined. “I didn't know you were in there! I slept through the water running!”

“That doesn't explain why you're naked!”

Leo blinked. “I was going. To shower.” He repeated, slower, feeling a little spike of triumph alongside his embarrassment when Grant looked sheepish. “People don't tend to do that with their clothes on. And if they do,  _clearly_ , you aren't one of them, so don't--”

_Tap tap._

They both froze, Leo looking at the bedroom door, Grant leaning out of the bathroom to do the same. Neither of them answered the knock.

This could not be happening.

Not only did they just have a naked run-in – which should be fine for a normal engaged couple, but they were  _far_ from that – but they were still both naked, barely covered, and someone was knocking on their door.

“Grant? Leo?”

_Charlotte_ was knocking on their door.

Leo looked back at Grant, panic-stricken and stuck in place, waiting for him to make the call. Grant, too, looked at a loss for what to do, before he whispered, “The bed.”

“What?” Leo whispered back.

“The bed,” Grant repeated. “Get in the bed.”

Leo considered pointing out that, under Grant's towel and behind Leo's clothes, they were both naked, but there wasn't time for that. Hurrying back to the bedside, he dropped his folded clothes and bathroom things on top of his bag, quickly sliding back under the covers. His eyes landed on Grant's towel, barely out of sight, behind the bathroom door, and he looked over just in time to get a glimpse of Grant's stomach and thighs before the blanket covered them.

Oh, he was built like a Greek god under his clothes.

Leo probably shouldn't have looked, but curiosity was a killer.

Grant's arm looped over his shoulders, and Leo made a face at the dampness clinging to his skin, but played along, curling into Grant's side, pillowing his head on his chest and running his fingers over the dip just below his ribs. That had to look convincing enough.

Grant seemed to agree, as he called, “Uh, come in?”

The door opened and Charlotte poked her head through, eyes widening. “Oh my god! Grant! Please, tell me you two aren't naked!”

“We aren't!” Leo lied, lifting his head. “Boxers, I swear!”

She didn't need to know otherwise.

“Oh, Jesus.” Charlotte pushed the door the rest of the way open, rolling her eyes. “Thank God, because Gramzy's with me, and the last thing I want is to bring her in if you two were just doing the do.”

Leo felt a brief shock of cold run down his spine, but he put on his best smile, extracting himself just slightly from Grant's side. Charlotte was, as she'd said, accompanied by their grandmother, who walked into the room, a knowing smirk on her face.

She couldn't possibly know, but Leo felt guilty all the same.

“I'm not that kind of lech, Charlie.” Grant said. “I'm not going to... You know. In the morning when I know the family is awake.” He changed his tone, smiling at his grandmother. “Morning, Gramzy.”

“Good morning, sweetheart.” She greeted. “We just wanted to see if you two were awake. I was thinking that Charlie and I could maybe take Leo into town today, give you some time with your brothers?”

“Oh,” Leo glanced at Grant, who looked just as confused as him. “Actually, that... Would be wonderful.” He smiled. “I'd love to.”

He wasn't lying. He genuinely liked Gramzy, and Charlotte, too. They were funny, and kind, and it might be nice to get to know Grant's family. Even if they hated him, once everything was over the divorce was finalized, it would be good to make nice with them, now.

Leo wouldn't pretend to himself that part of the reason why was because they could be called on to play witness to the great love between himself and Grant. It made him feel dirty, for reasons he didn't want to dwell on, but it was true.

“Oh, good.” Gramzy said, pressing her hands together. “There was one thing I wanted to discuss with you both, but that can wait until we're all downstairs.”

“We should probably let them get dressed, then, Gramzy.” Charlotte pointed out, and their grandmother laughed, nodding along.

“Yes, I guess so.” She turned to Leo, winking. “I don't get to see Grant much, so you understand if I hang around a little bit.”

Leo nodded. “Absolutely.” He kept his smile on while the two of them left, saying they would see them downstairs soon. Before the door closed, Leo distinctly heard Gramzy say, ' _I really like that boy._ '

“I really like her, too,” he said, looking up at Grant. “She's really nice. So's your sister. And brother, in his own way.”

Grant laughed, quietly, a sound that vibrated down his ribs and into Leo's side. “I hope you mean Thomas.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Leo answered, quick. “Christian... Well, I'm sure he has many wonderful qualities.”

“Somewhere,” Grant agreed. “Deep down. Deep. Deep, deep down.” Leo laughed, and he joined in, again, the two of them curled up under the blankets.

Naked.

“Oh, um.” Leo extracted himself from Grant's side, sliding to the edge of the bed. “I should...”

“Oh, shit, right.” Grant glanced over at the towel on the bathroom floor. “You make a run for it, I promise not to look.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but took the invitation, leaning out of the bed carefully to scoop his things into his arms, before sliding out from under the blanket, and quick stepping to the bathroom. He made it, and nudged the door shut, but not in time to block out Grant's voice, calling to him from the bed.

“Cute ass!”

 

*

 

When the two of them made it down to the kitchen – cleaned, dried, and dressed – the rest of the house had seemingly woken up. Christian, Anna and Holden were the only absences, as far as Leo could tell, and he suspected that was because the three of them were at their own home. With Charlotte living in Boston and Thomas living in Chicago, they were in the same position as himself and Grant; rooming at their parents' house for the weekend. He supposed it wasn't too much of a hardship for any of them. The house was huge, and had more bedrooms than Leo knew what he would do with. True, one was for Sarah, and one for Douglas and Elaine. That left seven, most of which, Leo had gleaned, were guest rooms. He and Grant had been afforded the biggest one, which, given Elaine Ward's standoffish nature, seemed incredibly generous.

Or maybe it was because theirs was the only guest room with a king sized bed, and the other two hadn't towed along significant others.

Leo wouldn't know. He hadn't gone snooping, even though he itched to.

Grant had worked for him for years, and Leo had never suspected that this was the world that he came from. The guy was snarky, professional, quick witted and competent, not to mention effective. He could be warm at times, but to and around most people, closed off. It took a lot to get past his defenses, and Leo was fairly certain that he'd gotten past at least the same amount of defenses as Jemma, and definitely less than Skye. Skye was like his best friend, as close as it got, from what Leo observed. Being here, in Grant's childhood home, surrounded by his family, though, he was fairly sure he was getting past quite a few more defenses than even she had.

There was also the fact that they'd been pressed against each other, naked, while Grant was slick wet from his shower, but Leo was trying not to dwell on that for too long at a time. It made things stir in him that could more than likely be boiled down to a healthy libido. At least, the things that didn't feel like warm fuzzies. The warm fuzzies were probably just a byproduct of stress over what was coming on Monday.

That's what Leo told himself.

Charlotte greeted them by raising her coffee mug in salute, and Thomas drawled, “Moooornin'” while he nursed his own. Unlike Charlotte, who had gotten dressed and ready, Thomas seemed to have stopped somewhere halfway between ready for the world, and ready for bed. While he was wearing a rose coloured button-up shirt with a pattern of dots across it, he was also still wearing happy face printed sleep pants, the back hems shredded from age and dragging on the floor. Given how tall Thomas was – taller, even, than Grant – Leo was impressed that he could find pants that hung so low that they got worn at the hems from being walked on. All in all, the look was very aspiring musician of him.

“Nice to see you two awake.” Grant commented, making his way over to the coffee maker. Leo knew that he'd been down here already today, and had gotten into a fight with his mother. The woman in question wasn't in view, but Leo was sure she was around somewhere, same as Grant's father. Clearly, Grant hadn't gotten coffee when he'd ventured out this morning, because he poured himself some now, and turned to Leo, raising an eyebrow.

“It's not specialty.” He explained. “Just plain old coffee. You think you can deal with that?”

Leo rolled his eyes, stepping into the small space against the counter between Grant and the machine. Grant handed him a mug, seeing him looking around, and he poured coffee into it, breathing in the rich, bitter scent of it.

Then he added a ton of sugar, and a generous amount of cream, from the carton Grant nudged his way. The coffee turned a friendly beige in the mug, and Leo smiled, taking a sip. “Mm. Perfect.” He looked up at Grant, catching the other rolling his eyes, smiling. “I can fend for myself without a Starbucks, you know.”

“I just like to witness it happening.” Grant explained, sipping his own black coffee. Leo could smell the aroma on his breath, found it strangely pleasant. Very domestic, that smell.

“There's a Starbucks in town,” Charlotte said, smiling. She was perched on a stool by the island counter. “We can go when we go out. I'm dying for a frap.”

“' _I'm dying for a frap_ ',” Thomas repeated in a mockery of his sister's voice. “Jesus H, Charlie, you listen to yourself? Next thing you know, you'll be wearing Ugg boots everywhere, and duckfacing at your phone for Instagram.”

Charlotte snorted. “No one duckfaces anymore, Thomas.”

“Starbucks guzzling, Instagram obsessing, Ugg boot wearing white girls do. Are you a Starbucks guzzling--”

“--You're being _incredibly_ sexist. Not to mention, pot, kettle, black?” Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. “You were the one who was pawing the window and whining ' _Staaarbuuuucks_ ' when I picked you up from the train station two days ago.”

The two of them continued bickering, Leo watching each sibling as they sent stabbing volleys back and forth, like a particularly unimportant tennis match. Grant, at his side, took a drink of his coffee and murmured, “They can go on like this for a while. It's pretty impressive. Watching doorknobs in their natural habitat.”

“Hey!”

Charlotte and Thomas had stopped arguing, and were looking at Leo and Grant with matching affronted expressions. Grant, his coffee halfway to his mouth again, laughed.

“You two look ridiculous.”

“Your face is ridiculous.”

“Good one, Tom. Real zinger.”

“Thank you.”

Again, Leo found himself engrossed in the way the Ward siblings interacted. Having been an only child, himself, he'd always been fascinated by the dynamics of siblings, and the Wards were particularly entertaining. At least, these three. Leo wasn't sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that, were Christian present, the atmosphere would be far from this light and fun.

“You're one to talk about ridiculous.” Charlotte interjected, ignoring her other brother. With a quick glance towards the other kitchen door, she continued, “I know for a fact that you were naked as fuck under that blanket this morning when I came in.” Her eyes lighted on Leo, and her face turned sympathetic. “I'm so sorry you had to be an unwitting victim of his shamelessness. He's a dog, but we love him.”

Leo was mildly preoccupied with the realization that Charlotte, at least, had been fully aware that the two of them were naked. He was embarrassed by that fact, that he'd been caught with his pants not only down, but literally off, but more than that, he was embarrassed that he'd been caught, presumably, post- or pre-coitus with his fake fiance.

“Whoa-oh-oh! Hey now!” Thomas crowed. “Grant got some hanky-panky in the morning! A snack before breakfast! Some sugar from his--”

“--We get the picture, Thomas.”

Elaine Ward's sudden appearance, that sentence her greeting, changed the mood in the room dramatically. If Leo hadn't been part of it, he wouldn't have believed it. All three of her children straightened where they sat – or in Grant's case, stood – and Thomas and Grant cleared their throats politely, Thomas muttering a quiet 'Sorry, mom' after he did. Not only that, but they downcast their eyes, like dogs that had been caught eating from the garbage. The mirth and light-heartedness had drained from the room, as far as Leo could tell. If the scene had been in bright colour before, it was now just a few notches above black and white.

It was scary.

What sort of woman was Mrs. Ward, that she didn't command just respect from her children, but apparent deference, and almost fear? She didn't even seem bothered that Leo was witnessing this change in the room. More, she seemed proud.

That scared him.

“Good morning, Leo.” She greeted him, bright, cheery. Fake. “Nice to see you awake. I trust you slept well?”

“Of course he did. That room has the best bed in this house.” Gramzy's voice came from the doorway, and she made her way into the room, her son trailing behind her. He didn't look ready to catch her if she fell, and she didn't look feeble, or like she might collapse at any moment. In fact, for her age, Sarah Ward moved amazingly well. Leo had a brief moment of wondering if she would be one of those seniors who showed up on the news because they had surpassed the ripe age of 100. He found himself hoping that she did. Sarah Ward was a truly sweet woman, from the few interactions Leo had had with her. The world would be lucky to be blessed by her presence for a century.

“Of course, that would be the best, after _my_ bed.” She made herself comfortable at the breakfast nook, next to Thomas. “And if he wanted to try that one out, I wouldn't be opposed to sharing...”

“Gramzy!” Ward admonished, the hint of a smile on his face, while Elaine gasped “Sarah,” and Thomas' face split into a broad, amazed grin.

“What? He's a looker, that boy.” Gramzy continued, winking at Leo. “Grant's a lucky one.”

Grant chuckled, looping an arm over Leo's shoulders. “I know, Gramzy. Trust me.”

“Mhmm. You better.” His grandmother settled herself, and Leo took a second to realize that the entire household was now crammed into the kitchen. That seemed significant. A second later, Gramzy started talking again, and he found he hadn't been wrong. “Now, I had an idea. Of course, you two are free to say no, but I thought... Well, I thought it might be nice. I'm getting older, and you know travel isn't the easiest thing for me, anymore.” There were a few scattered nods, Leo's one of them. “Not to mention, hah, I'm not getting any younger.”

“Oh, mom. Don't say that,” Douglas said, the first thing Leo had heard him say since the night before. A man of few words, that one.

“Just because I don't say it doesn't make it not true, Doug.” Gramzy scolded, before pressing ahead. “Now. I know you two really only _just_ got engaged, but, well. I wondered if you wouldn't mind... Getting married here. Maybe...” She looked between Leo and Grant. “Tomorrow? As a birthday present to me?”

Tomorrow.

Sunday.

The day before they were due to have their interview with May.

Leo realized he was sputtering, looked up at Grant for back-up, and found none, the other man working his mouth like a goldfish. “I. Um. Uh. Oh, well, that's...”

“We could?” Grant tried.

“We could?” Leo repeated, more a question for Grant, than a venture for the proposition. “I mean... We would. We'd have to get our friends up here. Jemma, at least.”

“Skye, Trip.”

“Of course.”

“My family's here, already? Yours...”

“None to speak of.”

They were bantering back and forth, half-sentences, a debate that Leo understood, even if they didn't seem to be working out an actual decision. It was strangely comforting to find that with Grant. The only other person who worked that out for him was Jemma.

“I guess...” Grant trailed off, looking into Leo's eyes, silently giving him the permission to have the final word.

Leo smiled, confident, from that look, that he knew what the right answer was. Even if it was a sham marriage, Leo knew that his grandmother was important to Grant. Rushing the wedding for her sake wouldn't really hurt their interview on Monday. Hell, it might even help it. With one, curt nod, Leo answered, “Yes. Absolutely. Let's do it.”

“Oh my god, okay.” Charlotte was already getting to her feet. “I'm guessing... We'll do it in the barn? Okay, that means... We need to do set-up, and, yikes, you two need tuxes. We need to get ahold of your friends, maybe some people from around here. Uh.”

Grant waved a hand in her direction. “Charlie. Breathe.”

“I need to call Anna. She can help. Um.”

“How about we split up the list?” Leo offered. “I'm already going out with you two lovely ladies. Maybe we can pick up things, and make sure food is handled? Thomas and Grant... and Douglas,” he added as an afterthought, not wanting to ignore his soon-to-be father-in-law. “Can get the barn ready for the ceremony? Elaine, come with us?”

It wasn't high on his list of things he wanted to do, but Leo was glad that he'd extended the invitation to Elaine. She had been silent through the whole discussion, but, at the chance to be part of the preparations, she came to life. That was good. Leo needed her to like him, at least for right now.

“Absolutely. I can divide up the duties, and we can head out and get started in, say...” She checked her watch, the golden band catching the sunlight coming in through the French windows as she did. “About an hour?”

“Sounds good.” Douglas answered for the group of them. “You all finish breakfast, and once they head out, boys, we'll get started.”

“Got it, dad.” Thomas gave a thumbs up while Grant spoke for the both of them. Gramzy said something about changing and getting together her best outfit to be cleaned while they got supplies in town, and left with them, leaving the three siblings and Leo alone again.

“Well... Uh.”

“Not exactly what we planned, huh?” Grant said, quiet, in response to Leo's eloquent choice of words.

“No, no, not exactly. But it's not bad!” Leo added hastily, holding up the hand that wasn't holding his coffee. He'd forgotten about it in the shock of the request of a wedding the next day, and took a sip. “It should be.... fun.”

“You get to hang with me.” Charlotte supplied, walking over to rinse her mug of coffee at the sink. “It's going to be _very_ fun.”

“Mostly because Gramzy's goin' along.” Thomas explained, in the voice of someone who feels sorry for any misunderstandings about the 'fun' of the person speaking. Charlotte tossed a dishtowel at his head.

“Go finish getting dressed, jackass. You and Grant got a whole lot of work to do.”

 

*

 

It turned out that going into town wasn't exactly the same as going downtown in New York. Leo hadn't expected that. He had grown up in Glasgow, so he was used to fairly large cities. Being in Manchester, things were quite different. It was the typical small town, a lot of what looked to be Mom and Pop businesses, not a Wal-Mart to be seen, and only one Starbucks. Charlotte made a joke to that effect, grinning at him as they drove, Elaine behind the wheel.

“Coming here, now that I live in Boston with a Starbucks within walking distance, feels like stepping back in time. The coffee at Essen, by us, is all right, but it definitely isn't the overpriced addiction you pay for at the green siren's.”

“You're far too reliant on that coffee, Charlotte,” Elaine said in response. Leo looked up, and caught her eying her daughter in the rearview mirror. “How much money do you pour into their pockets a day?”

Charlotte gave Leo a look across the car, one that clearly said both 'Sorry about this' and 'Ridiculous, isn't she?'.

“I have my own job, mom. I can pay rent, and my bills, and buy food, and I still have lots of money to throw into the Starbucks moneypit.”

Elaine didn't reply, but she didn't seem altogether pleased with that response. The mood in the vehicle would have tensed, Leo suspected, if it wasn't for Sarah speaking up, pointing out the window.

“Here, Elaine. We should get food scheduled for tomorrow.” She was pointing to a small restaurant, Viv's. Definitely not a place Leo had heard of before, so it must be local. He wondered, briefly, if it was one of the businesses – or properties – that the Wards owned. He sure hoped it was, otherwise they might be put out that the family was asking for such demands on such short notice. They would probably be put out, either way, but Leo had a strong suspicion that, as long as it was a business the family was tied to in some way, the impact would be lessened. “We'll need coffee, and a few options for dinners... We're going to need an open bar, too. Charlotte, baby, do you still have contact with Barbara Morse?”

Charlotte nodded, digging in her purse for her phone. “Bobbi? 'Course I do. Is... Bobbi going to bring us alcohol?” She grinned in a way that told Leo there was a story there. He would have to think to ask her or Grant later. He was curious, and the more he knew about the family and their friends, the better.

Gramzy laughed, and looked back at the two of them. “No, she isn't. But, I think her husband is a bartender. At least, that's one of his jobs.” Elaine made a noise in the front seat that had Leo convinced that, no matter how much she didn't like Grant's job, she was happy, at least, that he wasn't making a living the same way as Bobbi Morse's husband. “Do you think you could give her a call, and ask her to ask him if he's free tomorrow?”

“Absolutely, Gramz. One second.” Charlotte lifted the phone to her ear, and Elaine swung into a small parking lot, hidden down a long, paved driveway between a small department store and a body shop. There were few other cars in the lot; probably a mixture of how hidden it was, and the fact that the town was so small. Especially for on a Saturday afternoon, it didn't seem very busy. Perhaps it would get busier later in the day.

“Hey, Bob. It's Charlie.” A pause. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Long time, no talk, right? Well, I was wondering... You wanna catch up tomorrow?” Leo watched Charlotte grin as Bobbi replied to her. “Well, Grant's getting married. Gramzy wants to rush the ceremony, so we're doing it tomorrow.” Another pause. Leo realized he'd been holding his breath when Charlotte looked his way, but instead of letting it go, he continued to hold it. For some reason, the approval, the reaction, of this person he didn't even know, who was dating the sometimes-bartender, was very important to him. “No, it surprised us, too. Yeah. He's very sweet, actually.” Charlotte winked at him. “Yeaaaaah, I said 'he'. I knoooow. You're going to have to come to the wedding and sit Grant down. It's a cute story. Yeah. Yeah, right? So happy.” Leo let out his breath, lest he pass out. It seemed like Bobbi was all right with Grant getting married. “Okay, cool. Now, another reason why I called... Is Lance free tomorrow?” Charlotte narrowed her eyes and frowned while she waited for the answer. It was almost comical to watch that expression give way to a big grin. “Perfect. Can he bartend? I mean, can you ask him when he gets-- Oh.” A laugh. “All right. I know who wears the pants in your house. That's awesome, Bobbi, thanks so much. I'll text you details this aft, once we've hammered it all out? Okay. Awesome. Okay. Okay. Yeah. Bye!”

Charlotte pulled her phone away from her ear and hit the end call button, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Done and done. Leo, your wedding will have an open bar.”

“That's great,” he answered, genuinely pleased. Considering this was all very last minute, things seemed to be coming together nicely. “Thank you, really.”

His soon-to-be sister-in-law waved a hand, flapping away his concern. “Ain't no thing. Mom, you can cross the bar off the list.” She undid her seatbelt, craning her neck, eyes narrowed again. “We're... Okay. Gramzy, do you and mom want to handle the food?” She settled in her seat once more, but one hand hovered on the door latch. Elaine was deleting a line from the list she had made on her phone, while Gramzy gathered her purse. “I have Grant's measurements. They won't be perfect, but I was thinking while you guys handle the menu, Leo and I could go and handle the tuxes, over at Kara's.”

“Good thinking.” Gramzy answered for Elaine, who was just putting her phone away. “Make the most out of this trip.”

“Perfect.” Charlotte pushed her door open. “Leo, come on. This way.”

She didn't give him much time to get out of the bar, already striding back down the driveway, her long legs carrying her so fast that Leo had to jog to catch up once he was free and able. He did his best to seem put together, while he did. Skye had once made fun of him for the way he ran. Charlotte reminded him a lot of her, and he wouldn't have put it past her for the same comment to have been made, had she seen him.

Instead, when he caught up, she said, “Sorry. I had to get away from mom. She means well, and all, but she's kind of a lot to handle. Gramzy can take her. I, on the other hand, would rather get to know more about you, than listen to mom agonize over every little detail.” She grinned at Leo. “And, tell you some embarrassing stories about Grant.”

Leo felt a warm spot open up in his chest as she spoke. Charlotte was genuinely invested in getting to know her brother's fiance. Maybe it was overreaching, but Leo felt like that meant she wanted the two of them to be friends. He'd like that. Charlotte, like he'd thought, was a lot like Skye, but she was also her own person. Fiery in a different way, sassy on a different level. No doubt that came from being the youngest of four children, with all of her older siblings being boys. Leo had no illusions that Elaine Ward wouldn't have tried to raise Charlotte to be a proper young lady, but with big brothers like Grant and Thomas, it couldn't be helped.

“I'm up for all that.” He answered, as they strode onto the sidewalk. “Um, what's Kara's?”

“Kara's,” Charlotte started. “Is a formal wear shop that was actually started by one of Grant's high school girlfriends.” Leo must have visibly recoiled, because she raised both hands, palms down, shaking them slightly. “No, no! Don't worry.” She laughed. “That's all in the past. They broke up on really good terms, and are still friends, from what I know. Kara would never be nasty to Grant's fiance.” She paused, seeming to think that over for a second. “I mean, unless said fiance wasn't good for Grant. Like... I dunno, shot him or something. Then I don't think she would be a fan.” Grant's sister gave him a faux-serious, searching look. “You haven't _shot_ my brother, have you, Leo?”

It was his turn to raise his hands and ward her question off. “Haven't even dreamed of it.”

Charlotte laughed. “That's too bad.” she said, returning to her previous smile. “We've played paintball a few times. He's damn hard to hit. I was about to give you, like, seventeen high fives.”

Leo laughed, and they continued on their walk. As they did, Charlotte asked questions; where he was from (Glasgow), how long he and Grant had been dating before the proposal (he fudged that at twenty-two months. Seemed like a decent amount of time). Did he like dogs (yes), did he know Grant really, very badly wanted a dog (yes – that was a lucky lie, he was going to need to talk to Grant about the dog thing as soon as possible), did he like what he did for a living (absolutely), was the sex good (this one he sputtered at while she laughed, and then said that she really, really didn't want to know, anyway, she just liked to see him get flustered).

By the time they were pushing open the shop door, and Charlotte was calling a ' _Heyyyy Kaaaaaraaaaaa_!' Leo felt like Charlotte probably knew him best, after Grant. It was nice, to want to be known, to be invited into the fold of the family, like this. He hadn't had real family around him for so long, he'd forgotten what it was like. Now, here was Charlotte – and her grandmother and brother, and to a lesser extent, parents and oldest brother – welcoming him in with open arms, wanting to know him, understand him. It made him feel settled. Warm, and wanted.

It was nice.

The woman in question, Kara, came around the corner of the shop, her dark hair swept back over her shoulders. At least, Leo suspected this was Kara, given how easily she and Charlotte moved into each other's space, hugging tightly, before Kara launched into asking how she'd been. While Charlotte filled her in, Leo did a careful – and, he hoped, discreet – once-over of the shopowner. Kara was tall, taller than him, but not quite as tall as Grant. Dark, straight hair hung down just past her shoulders, and her eyes were big, dark and friendly. She was slender, but muscled, he could tell, by the way she stood, and the way she stood also betrayed that she was a rather self confident, self assured person.

It was hard not to like her from that one assessment alone.

“And this is Leo,” Charlotte said, introducing him, once they'd gotten the pleasantries out of the way. Kara turned to him, those friendly eyes crinkling when she smiled and held out a hand. “Grant's fiance...”

There was a momentary flicker, there. Acknowledgement, maybe a bit of shock? Leo took her hand warily, hearing Charlotte's earlier words in the back of his mind. She was one of Grant's exes. Was she likely to take to him as well as Charlotte had said? Or was she going to resent him, for marrying Grant? Leo didn't know how things had ended between them. What if she still held the torch for the man Leo was going to be marrying in just a little more than 24 hours? That could get really awkward, really fast.

“Kara Palamas,” she introduced. “Nice to meet you, _and,_ honestly, congratulations.” Her smile stayed, genuine and kind, and Leo felt the ball of tension between his shoulders loosen a little. “I'm really glad to hear that someone finally got Grant to settle down.”

There was a story there, Leo was sure, but he wasn't sure he should ask it. It might lead to suspicions about how well he and Grant actually knew each other, whether or not they should actually be getting married. There was no time to debunk suspicions like that, not with everything that had to be done, so he couldn't risk bringing them up.

“It was hard,” he replied, with a little grin of his own. “But, I think I wore him down. And, nice to meet you. You have a lovely shop.”

That was the right thing to say. Kara's smile turned from friendly to proud and she nodded, raising a hand to wave at the shop in its entirety. “Thank you. It wasn't easy, but between myself, my mother, and my friend Bobbi...” she paused, glancing at Charlotte. “Have you met Bobbi?”

“Not yet,” Leo admitted. “But her husband is going to be bartending the wedding, tomorrow.”

“Oh, so you'll meet her th-- _Tomorrow_.”

Kara looked stunned, staring at Leo before giving Charlotte a sharp look. “What, did my invite get lost in the mail? Should I be tearing Grant a new one?”

“No, no,” Leo said, raising his hands, but Charlotte beat him to the explanation.

“Actually, Gramzy just asked this morning if we could do it tomorrow. Match it up with her birthday. I don't think they'd had a date, yet.” She glanced at Leo. “If they did, we need to call and get that cancelled, yeah?”

“No, no date yet.” Leo agreed, relieved that Charlotte had so easily summed up the situation for Kara. The woman had seemed so riled at having been snubbed, he didn't want to have to deflect her warpath from Grant. Pulling that warpath out from under her was a much better option.”But, yes, it's all kind of sudden and last minute. It's why we've come to you, as neither of us packed tuxedos, and... Well, I can't very well get married in a plaid button-down, now can I?”

Kara smirked. “In Manchester, that might be more common than you'd think, for the Northeast, but on my watch, that's not happening.” She crooked her finger, beckoning him to follow. “I hope you've got Grant's measurements. I think I have _just_ the cuts in mind for both of you.”

 

*

 

“You want to be straight with me about this?”

Grant felt his gut turn to ice the second those words left Thomas' mouth. His younger brother was, Grant knew, and knew well, very observant. He caught on to things a lot of people didn't, at least, not at first. Caught on to things, like, for instance, that a couple doesn't seem like a couple.

Thomas could have easily have found something off about his and Leo's relationship.

Grant was just thankful that he had refrained from bringing it up until the two of them were alone.

Turning, he cocked his head to the side, shrugging at his brother. The barn was relatively clean – it had never been used for anything but social events, and even that was few and far between – but it still required being gone over with a fine tooth comb for any issues, and set-up. They would need their father and older brother to help them move the stage, where they would put up the altar, and chairs needed to be set up to create an artificial aisle for himself and Leo to walk down. Hanging a few things – flimsy white fabric that Christian had shown up with, sent along by Anna, through the slats of the supports, and around the altar, for one – and laying down a carpet of some sort was really all they had to get done, otherwise. Once Christian and Douglas got back from finding fishing wire in the house to secure the decorations with, it wouldn't take them long to finish.

“Sorry... straight with you about...?”

Grant was playing dumb, the tactic he thought the most appropriate, and hopefully that worked out for him. Thomas sighed, shook his head, and opened the storage closet door. It squealed on its hinges, sliding aside to reveal the stacks of wooden folding chairs, and Grant winced.

“Doing this wedding _tomorrow_.” Thomas clarified. “I mean, man, you two looked pretty freaked out for a sec when Gramzy asked. I know she's gettin' old and all, but don't let her rush you. Especially if you and Leo aren't ready.” He pulled out a chair, unfolding it and looking at it critically. “Doesn't look too bad.”

“Nah, it doesn't.” Grant agreed, joining his brother at the closet and reaching to pull out a bunch of chairs by their seat-backs. “I wasn't keen on it, but it works.” He continued, in answer to the concerns Thomas had raised. “We came here this weekend to make the announcement and to introduce Leo to everyone. And, of course, I mean, for Gramzy's party. She has a point, Tom.” Thomas frowned deeply. “She is getting older. And it isn't like Leo and I had anything planned for the ceremony and reception, back in New York. We'll just have our closest friends come up here, and that's that.”

Thomas' frown had lessened, but barely. “You're really cool with it?”

Grant laughed, incredulous, starting to set chairs up in a line in front of where the stage would go. “Yes?”

“Because you two looked _right_ freaked when Gram brought it up.”

Grant sighed. “So you said. Tom, how would you react to being asked to get married in just over 24 hours, when you hadn't even really, seriously begun hammering out details?”

Thomas put down a chair next to the last one Grant had set up. “Pretty freaked.”

Grant threw his hands up in a 'you see?' gesture.

“Okay, fair.” Thomas allowed. The barn door closest to the house opened and their father walked in with Christian in tow. Douglas wasn't the type to be overly concerned with his appearance when he was home. Old jeans that looked a little worn at the hems, and a long-sleeve t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up was what he had decided to wear, today, and hadn't seemed to think he'd need to change it to set up the barn for his son's wedding. Christian, on the other hand, was the opposite. A politician, he regularly went out of his way to make sure that he looked absolutely without flaw when it came to his hair, and his clothes. Now, he was entering the barn dressed in track pants that almost looked new, and a Harvard t-shirt that looked less so. That was less due to age, and more due to the fact that Christian rarely let his hair down, as the saying went. It was, however, definitely an outfit made for setting up a barn for a wedding, and paired well with Thomas' own worn trackpants and the band t-shirt he'd traded in his button-up for, and Grant's old jeans and black tee. For the first time in a long time, the Ward men didn't look like they had been primped and polished for a get-together.

Grant assumed he should savour it. In a few hours time, they would all be done up again for dinner at Ernesto's, and this relaxed, normal family look would be nothing but a fond memory.

Christian held the door open a moment longer, making a 'come on' gesture, and Holden ran into the barn, his sneakers slapping on the wooden boards that had been laid down years ago over the concrete floor. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, one that matched the one that Christian was carrying.

“You boys got the chairs pulled out.” Douglas commented. “That's good. We should probably get the stage moved, first, and then we can finish setting those up, and start with the decorations.”

Holden made his way to his uncles, presenting the bag he was carrying for inspection. Inside, Grant could see boxes advertising that they held twinkle lights. “Mom had an idea.”

“Your mom is going to make this place look amazing without even being here for the set-up.” Thomas said, watching while Grant tugged the boxes out of the bag, before he put his hands on his hips and looked around the barn.

Across from where they had started setting up the chairs, there was a short hallway, one that led back to a few rooms that the family had built into the structure over the years. The support struts had been left exposed, for the aesthetic qualities, and to match the rest of the barn. The lights would be easy to wind and weave through there. Anna had sent quite a few boxes with her husband and son, so there might even be enough to wind around the arch that Elaine had suggested they put on the stage. Those lights, mixed with the gauzy white fabric that was stuffed into the larger bag that Christian was carrying, would make the barn look suitably wedding-ready.

“Figure, you two can come from there, huh?” Thomas asked, pointing at the small hallway. “We're already lining the chairs on either side of the doorway... Makes sense.” That had been Grant's rough plan, and it was good to see that his brother found it agreeable.

“Stage goes here, then?” Christian asked, joining them and gesturing to the wide space behind them. He sounded almost bored, and Grant felt a flash of annoyance with his older brother. “Arch on top. Who's officiating?”

“Your mother is going to ask that guy from city hall, who does all the civil unions, to come down.” Douglas said, looking to the left side of the barn, where the stage was propped up against the wall, reaching nearly to the ceiling. It was a low building, the ceiling only twelve feet high, making the stage only about ten feet long, and about a foot tall. It would do the trick, though. “Phil Coulson, I think?”

Grant refrained from commenting, but he saw the look that Thomas gave him. Douglas didn't 'think', he knew. The man knew anyone who was anyone in Manchester, and Phil Coulson was one of those people. Maybe their father's memory was fading in his old age, and he forgot that his children would be able to call him on whether or not he knew someone. Neither Thomas nor Grant opened their mouths, though.

“We might as well get the stage moved.” Douglas continued. The boys all nodded, Christian telling Holden to stand back so that he didn't get hurt. Grant's nephew nodded, gathering the bag of twinkle lights, and the bag that Christian had set down with the fabric, and dragged himself backward a few paces. Enough so that he was well out of the way.

“So, Grant,” Christian started, as the four of them gently tipped the stage from where it was resting against the wall, slowly getting it level before they'd lift it. “Excited?”

Grant blew out a breath, willing himself to be civil. It was odd that Christian was asking after him, but, he supposed, it made sense. He was getting married the next day, and it was the easiest and most readily available topic of conversation that Christian could light on to make small talk. Grant reached up over his head to grasp the smooth wooden edge of the stage, easing it further down.

“Well, yeah, of course.” He smiled, raised an eyebrow at Christian, diagonal from him over the stage as they lifted it and began shuffling towards the wall it would rest against. “It would be pretty bad if I wasn't excited, wouldn't it?”

And, Grant found, maybe, under the thick layer of concern that they would be found out, there could be a layer of excitement. Even if it was a sham wedding, he _was_ getting married. He was getting to do it at home, under mostly civil terms, around the people he had grown up with, and his grandmother would be present. It was the least he could ask for, in a wedding, aside from it being a legitimate ceremony.

That small detail would have to be passed over, to indulge the rest, but Grant could live with that, he thought. For one weekend, his family was behaving kindly, and, aside from his spat with his mother that morning, nothing had truly gone wrong.

He did well not to voice that last thought. It would only lead to something going terribly wrong.

“It would suck for Leo if you weren't excited.” Thomas chimed in, grunting as they reached the wall and started to set the stage down.

“Well, clearly he is excited.” Christian said. “So, nothing sucks for Leo.”

There was a beat, and Grant warily looked at his older brother, not daring to believe that it could be possible. Christian seemed to have caught himself, smirking ever so slightly. Across from him, Thomas' face was breaking in a grin. Douglas groaned.

“Boys...”

“I mean, except for Grant, right?” Thomas asked Christian, with a little wink. They both laughed, and Douglas' corner of the stage hit the ground with a soft _boom_.

“Boys!”

The laughter died down, and Grant rolled his eyes, smiling just slightly.

Douglas pointed to the young boy sitting just a few feet from them on the floor. “Your son is right there.”

Holden looked up, clearly not having been paying attention, too busy unboxing the twinkle lights and untwisting the ties that held them to the cardboard backing. Christian, Thomas and Grant all looked from him, to their father. Douglas didn't look mad, and as they all exchanged looks, he allowed a small smile.

“Being joshed is all part of the wedding fun, son.” He said. It was rare to see Douglas smile, rare for him to joke with him. Rare for Christian to make jokes like the one he had, like they were all on even footing and had no bad blood in their pasts. Like Grant's marriage might not be a point of contention, come election season.

It all felt very strange, but, at the same time, kind of nice. Grant wasn't willing to completely let his guard down around his mother and older brother, but it was nice to suspend the vague distrust he had of them both. At least, for a little while.

“Oh, I remember.” Grant answered, pushing the stage into place with his foot. It rested flush to the wall, and now, with it in place, it was easier to imagine how the barn would look once they were done. “I think we took the piss out of Christian for a whole week before he got hitched.”

“Yeah, that was fun.” Christian deadpanned.

“Hey.” Thomas cut in, sudden, sounding like he'd just remembered something extremely important. “You're not having a bachelor party.”

Grant shrugged, not having realized that until just now. “I'll live.”

Christian nodded while Thomas whined, “But what about boys night out?”

“We're having a family dinner tonight, that's enough.” Douglas said. “Though, bachelor parties are sort of a tradtion, Grant.”

“Yeah, for straight men.” Christian cut in, moving to the chairs his brothers had gotten from storage, not looking at Grant while he spoke. “What would a gay bachelor party even look like? Both Leo and Grant present? At a male strip club?” He shook his head. “Yeah, I, for one, am fine with no bachelor party.”

Grant could feel his blood boiling, steaming just under his skin, at Christian's comments. He wasn't sure why, it wasn't like the marriage was real, but the easy way his brother passed over what was seen as a tradition for pre-wedding nights, simply because their marriage would be between two men, riled him.

“Who said I would have invited you?” He commented, sounding just as bored – or trying to sound just as bored – as Christian had when he'd arrived. He didn't even bother sparing his older brother a look, but he could see him bristle out of the corner of his eye.

“Boys...” Douglas warned.

“Oh, and while we're on the topic of traditional things. The best man. I think it's going to have to be Thomas.”

Thomas beamed. Christian didn't say anything, but his mouth pursed in a thin line.

“And Holden?” The little boy looked up from the neat pile he'd made of the twinkle lights. “You want to be the ring-bearer, bud?”

“Uhhh,” Holden was smiling, but in that tentative way that children did when they were totally unaware of what they were being asked to do.

“You get to hold mine and Leo's rings until we put them on,” Grant elaborated, gently, with a smile of his own. Holden's smile brightened, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Thanks, Uncle Grant!”

Grant grinned, and saluted his nephew. Holden returned the gesture, and then lifted the loop of twinkle lights over his shoulder. “What now?”

“We should finish setting up the chairs.” Douglas jumped in, happy for the conversation allowing itself to be steered away from anything that might cause Grant and Christian to butt heads. The last time the two of them had gotten into a fight and been allowed to escalate it, Christian had left with a black eye. Anna had been able to cover it up with makeup well enough and it never got out, but Grant suspected that Douglas didn't want a repeat of that incident. Nor, really, did _he_ want to risk being all bruised for his wedding. Once upon a time, he would have cowed under Christian, and allowed him to say what he was saying, and get away with it. Since he'd grown, and learned to stand up for not only himself, but his younger siblings, too, he was less willing to stand idly by and let Christian think he had the upperhand.

So, if Christian walked away without a black eye today, that was fine. He would be carrying a bruised ego from being denied the best man position he more than likely had thought he was entitled to by virtue of being the oldest brother.

The five of them worked in near silence, mostly just conferring with each other about chair placement, and then they moved on to putting up the decorations. Douglas and Christian went into the storage area to get out the arch while Thomas and Grant set to putting up the lights. While they did, Holden tied knots of the fabric to the corners of each of the chair seats. It wouldn't take long to finish here, and then Grant would be able to check his phone, see if he'd heard from Skye, Jemma, or Trip.

Or, their immigration interviewer.

Grant and Leo had both agreed, earlier, that it would be best to let her know what would be happening tomorrow. It would make it seem less shady than if they arrived at their interview already married. Hopefully, she wouldn't reply, and would just take their email, and their explanation – appeasing Grant's elderly grandmother – for what it was; full disclosure.

Well, minus the whole bit where the marriage was a sham.

Grant was starting to get curious about the little tinge of ice he felt in his stomach whenever he remembered that there wasn't an ounce of truth in their wedding.

 

*

 

Every lie had a grain of truth.

“I had always thought there was something special about Grant.” Leo said, as he stood in front of the bay of mirrors in Kara's shop. He could see her and Charlotte behind him, appraising the tux he had on. He, personally, liked it. He had never imagined that he would look good in one, but, well, damn, this one looked really good. It made him look suave, and put-together, in a way that his business casual just never did. He liked it.

Kara had asked to hear how he and Grant had gotten together. They had, somewhat, discussed this beforehand, but a lot of embellishment would be needed to flesh out the story. Hopefully, Leo had the chance to get to Grant before he circulated his own version. Their notes would compare the same, but just in case, he needed to be sure.

“But, of course, we butt heads to begin with. He thought I was...” Leo thought back to come of the words he'd heard Grant's family use. “Childish. Immature. A lucky genius? Lazy. I mean, we really didn't get along. I honestly thought he was stuck-up. Uptight. And he ended up as my assistant, and that was just...” He whistled, low. “It was a recipe for disaster.”

“Grant always had strong convictions.” Kara said with a nod. “And he's always sort of been... Quick to judge.”

Leo nodded along with her. “And he wasn't entirely wrong about me. I can be lazy. I can be...” He shook his head. “Very childish. But, somewhere between disliking each other and begrudgingly working with each other... Something happened.”

Charlotte leaned forward in her seat, and Leo turned away from the mirrors to face the two women. The shop was quiet, outside of the three of them, and he figured they had time to chat. He sat down on the edge of the pedestal and shrugged. “I started to see Grant as more than this uptight dick. He was loyal to the people he liked, and even the ones he didn't, like me, once you got past his defenses.” Leo smiled. “He's funny, and he can be so sweet. He's smart, I mean, in a different way than me. I could never think the way he does. We became friends.”

Thinking about it, there were more grains of truth in his pack of lies than there were lies. He had worked with Grant for a while, and having done so, he had observed him in ways that, maybe, he hadn't realized at first. They weren't constantly at each other's throats, and even if Grant didn't really like him, at least they respected each other. They were professional. He could remember times when he and Grant had actually gone for coffee, or gotten lunch together, and Grant had made him laugh. They'd spoken about things, like, for instance, Grant's family – though their extravagant wealth hadn't once come up – and Leo's childhood in Scotland. They knew each other, the way friends did, even if they weren't really friends.

And Grant was sweet. He'd actually offered to take Leo for drinks on the anniversary of his mother's death. He was smart, having worked out a way for them to outsmart the competition more than once, though, admittedly, sometimes that happened in conjunction with Leo. To that effect, they were a good team.

Leo looked at his hands, feeling the corners of his mouth turning upwards. “And there's just something about him. It drew me to him, and I know it's not the most ethical thing, because he's my assistant, and that's favouritism...” He laced his fingers together, curling them inward towards his palms, eying the line of his knuckles pressed against each other. “But I can't help it. I've fallen for him.”

The words punched him in the gut in a way he wasn't ready for.

Had he been this blind, the whole time?

Or was this all just being brought on by a huge lie that demanded he pretend that he really felt this way?

Leo didn't know, and that was maybe the most unsettling thing. He was certainly aware that he found Grant Ward attractive. You would have to be blind not to. Tall, dark, handsome; that was the easiest way to define him. In the years they had worked together, however, Leo had some to find other traits in him, ones under that handsome face, that made him like him more. Even if they had butt heads and squabbled and argued.

Sometimes, that's how the best friendships were built.

And they were friends, weren't they?

Was it such a stretch for Leo to believe that he had fallen for Grant Ward, without even noticing it? Without being aware until this immigration fiasco had forced his hand, and made him willing and able to bribe his assistant into hitching up with him, just until things blew over?

His mind was a mess, a swirl of questions and emotions, and he really didn't have time to confront them, here and now, in the shop, while Charlotte and Kara smiled and sighed.

“That's so cute.” Charlotte was saying. “I'm so happy you found each other.”

“Same here,” Kara agreed, gesturing him to his feet. Leo stood at her request, and she reached out, straightening the tux a few times, looking him up and down. “Grant's a good man. He can be hard to deal with, but he's good. And I can tell you care about him a lot.” She smiled when Leo met her eyes. “If Grant had to marry someone, I'm glad it's you.”

He couldn't help the smile that took over his face, even while, in the back of his mind, he panicked about the sudden revelation on his true feelings. “Thank you. For everything.”

Kara waved a hand. “Anything for the future Mr. Grant Ward.” She paused. “Which... doesn't sound as dramatic as I had hoped it too, but anyway.” She gestured to the fitting room. “Get yourself out of that, and we'll get you two bundled up and out of here. I'll come over early tomorrow with the tuxedos, so that I have time to get them pressed and ready for you both.”

Leo nodded and ducked back into the fitting room, carefully taking the tux off, laying it over the fitting room couch as he removed each piece. He didn't dare look himself in the mirror, afraid of what he'd see when he did. He didn't want to know if he looked lost and confused, but that was how he felt.

“Wait until you see them together, Kara.” Charlotte was saying on the other side of the door. “Grant, just...” There was a pause, and then a laugh. “Okay, I know, you've clearly accepted it.”

“How can I not? I was over him a long time ago, and this guy? He seems so good for Grant.”

Leo felt his stomach twist uncomfortably.

So good for Grant that he was making him risk a massive fine and federal prison time if this blew up in their faces.

Not to mention that he was making him lie to his family about their relationship, about how in love they were.

Pulling on his jeans, Leo continued to eavesdrop. Their voices were quiet enough that he suspected they didn't intend him to hear, but he couldn't help listening in. He had to know what Kara Palamas and Charlotte Ward were really thinking about the love story he and Grant presented.

“When Grant looks at him, I really think he's lost.” Charlotte said. “Mom said, this morning, she hopes this isn't some late 'flight of fancy' for Grant, but, Kara? When they look at each other, it's love.”

Leo stopped listening then, tugging his sweater on.

He just had to make it through the next 30 hours of this lie. Then they could run away back to New York, play house, with separate rooms and minimal contact outside of work, and he could stop wondering if he really was in love with Grant.

And, possibly better, away from the Wards, he could stop wondering if Grant was really in love with him.

 

*

 

The barn looked nothing short of perfect.

Even Grant could admit that, and, he supposed, that was probably a good thing. It was his wedding that the barn was done up for, after all, and he should absolutely think that the venue looked perfect. The chairs were arranged in perfect lines, and each of them had a little knot of white fabric tied to it, linking the chairs to the rest of the room. The struts were wound through with long lines of the fabric, and around those, the twinkle lights hung, invisible on their white wires until they were turned on. The arch, a big wooden piece, carved with branch designs, was equally decorated, and the short hallway that he and Leo would enter through – once everyone else had – looked truly beautiful, once the lights wound through its struts, nestled in the fabric, were lit up.

In a short amount of time, he, his brothers, father and nephew, had turned the bare barn into a place he would be happy to be married in. He was almost impressed.

“Tomorrow is gonna be great,” Thomas said, clapping him on the shoulder. “We did good.”

“It does look pretty nice.” Christian agreed, crossing his arms and surveying their work. “The lights look a lot better than I thought they would.”

“Rule number one of being married, son,” Douglas said. “Never question your wife on what will and will not look good, when it comes to decorating.” He leaned forward, out past Christian so that Grant could see him. “That goes for you, too. You and Leo are both men, but you'd be wise to listen to him.”

“Well, considering he's been his assistant for how long now?” Christian started. “I think he's had plenty of practice, listening to what Leo says.”

Thomas started speaking before Christian was even done, cutting off the end of his sentence. “Chris, why you got to go and say shit like that?” He asked. “Why can't you just be happy for Grant, huh?”

“I am happy for Grant!”

“You sure aren't acting like--”

“--Guys!” Grant held up his hands, shutting them both up. “Thomas, thanks, Christian... Screw you. Dad, thanks. You think we can head back to the house, now? Shower? I need to see if people are gonna make it up from New York, and we should probably get ready, soon.” Dinner wasn't that far away, and Grant needed some time to mentally prepare himself for that. Ernesto's was the swankiest place in Manchester, and his family was bound to be riled up, celebrating his engagement. With the wedding tomorrow, that made that fact even more likely.

“Good idea.” Douglas agreed, leading the way up to the house. Grant closed and locked the barn behind him, mentally making sure that they had turned off all the twinkle lights, and disconnected the sound system tucked into the corner of the stage, before they'd left. It wouldn't be good if all their hard work went up in flames. Their hard work, and the family barn.

As they were walking the short path back up to the house, two cars pulled in – Anna's and Elaine's – and the rest of the family piled out. Elaine got out of the passenger side of Anna's car, while Charlotte got out of the driver's side of hers, and they, along with Anna, and Leo, moved to the trunks of the cars.

“Hey, you boys!” Gramzy called, closing the door to Elaine's car and waving to them. “Get up here and help carry these things!”

None of them were the type to refuse an order from Gramzy, and they changed direction, joining everyone at the cars, and holding their arms out. There were boxes of things – new tableclothes and flowers, alongside mentions that they would need to have the lawn set up for the reception. Elaine mentioned that she had booked,very last minute, a large tent for them, along with two dozen tables, that would be set-up the next morning. The food would be coming around the same time, and their tuxedoes would be hand delivered by Kara.

Grant smiled at his old girlfriend's name. It would be good to see her.

Every one of the women had bought a new dress for the occasion, and Anna carefully handed hers to Holden, asking him if he could take it to his daddy's car, and hang it up in the back. Christian, like Charlotte, drove a SUV, though his was much less unassuming. Holden nodded and headed that way, walking slow and careful, like he might break the dress in some way if he hurried.

“I spoke with Phil, also.” Elaine said, closing the trunk, it now fully unloaded into Thomas and Grant's arms. “He'd be happy to come by and do the ceremony. I've already told Leo, but you two should probably have your vows prepared and ready to go. He understands this is all kind of last minute, and, obviously, he isn't asking for a dress rehearsal.” That was the nice thing about having a public servant do the ceremony. They wouldn't have to worry about going over and over the words to make sure it was perfect. One quick run, and it would be done.

“Leo, show him.” Charlotte said, nudging Leo forward. He stumbled to a stop in front of Grant, a small box in his hand. Grant wasn't sure, but Leo looked nervous, maybe a little uncomfortable. He felt a brief flare of protectiveness, wondering if his mother had done something to bring this on. He didn't like the idea of Leo feeling uncomfortable, and given how comfortable he'd seemed when they'd all left earlier, Grant could only imagine what had brought it on.

“Don't be shy, love, the proposal's already happened,” Gramzy coaxed, patting Leo's shoulder. The rest of the family was gathered around them, so Grant couldn't snort at that inaccuracy, though he did catch Leo's eyes. They shared a small smile, and Leo tugged the box open, slow and careful.

Inside, two golden bands sat on a velvety blue pillow, one of them inlaid with a line of silver, the other boasting a matching thin line that appeared to be diamonds, flat to the golden surface of the ring. They were understated, but still beautiful. The perfect wedding bands for two men.

“Mom, please tell me you didn't.”

“Oh, you're paying me back for Leo's.” She said, lightly. “He paid for yours.”

Leo met his eyes again, smiling just a touch wider than he had before, that smile actually reaching his eyes this time. Grant couldn't help but smile back, his chest tightening with emotion. It was obvious which ring – the gold and silver – was intended for him, simply by their sizes. It was unique in its own way, but still understated, and Grant was surprised.

“You picked it out yourself?”

Leo nodded. “I know you.”

“You do,” Grant agreed. For a second, it was easy to pretend the others weren't there. It was just the two of them, and these rings, and the promise of what was coming tomorrow.

“We should get into the house.”

Christian's words effectively broke the illusion, and Grant remembered, clearly, that what was coming tomorrow was a grand lie.

“Uh, right.” He nodded, turning, waiting for a beat for Leo to close the box and walk forward, before he made his way in.

The house was a flurry of activity, people moving in, and out, for not for the first time in his life, Grant was happy that they had so many showers in the house. Leaving Leo to the one in their room, he sought out one in one of the other guest rooms, and turned the water hot, stripping and stepping under the spray.

Yes, he'd showered that morning, but setting up the barn for the wedding was a simple enough explanation for why he needed another one. Simply put, Grant needed time to himself, away from everyone, to think.

He had known, when he'd agreed to this, in defiance of Melinda May, what kind of hell he was signing himself up for. The engagement, the wedding, the marriage; all of it was fake, a shield against Leo being sent away, and to propel Grant into the position he lusted after. It could all come crashing down around their ears, easily, and leave him with a hefty fine to pay, sitting in a federal prison, the laughing stock of the block. Who got themselves tossed in jail for marrying a Scotsman so he didn't get deported? It would be an unbelievable story, just real enough to be a problem.

All of it was fake, and it could all turn out so badly.

His family was another thing on his mind, when it came to all of this. He couldn't tell about his parents, though they seemed to like Leo well enough, Christian, he had known, couldn't be bothered to care either way about the guy, or Grant's marriage. Once this was over, he would probably immediate dive into trying to work out how this would effect _him_ , politically. Anna and Holden seemed to like Leo well enough, and Grant knew his grandmother, and younger siblings well enough to know their thoughts. They loved him.

They were excited for Grant, happy to be welcoming Leo into their family. Scrubbing shampoo into his hair, Grant let his mind follow the path that it was sliding along.

There was no lying to himself. Being isolated like this from everything in New York was making him realize that, maybe, he didn't dislike Leo as much as he pretended to. He had never bothered to admit the thing to himself, but over the years, he'd actually come to like the guy. A lot. He was really smart, witty as hell, and nice. He was so nice. Maybe not Jemma Simmons levels of nice, but that was a level of nice generally reserved for saints. Leo Fitz, though, Grant had become fond of, without realizing it. The layer of annoyance he insisted on keeping with the other had been excellent protection against feeling that fondness. Now, without the four walls of Shield Science around them, he was finding that it was harder than he'd expected to keep up the charade. If not to Leo, than definitely to himself.

Grant Ward didn't dislike Leo Fitz.

Hell, he wasn't even neutral on Leo Fitz.

He _liked_ Leo Fitz. A lot. These last two days had been eye-opening. Grant couldn't have avoided it, and now, in the shower, remembering that all of this was fake, he felt that spike of ice in his belly and knew what it was.

There was a part of him that didn't want this to be fake.

He was, if not in love, very, very fond of his boss. And he had no idea when that had happened, only that once he recognized that fact for what it was, it made itself comfortable, finally acknowledged, finally at home. Grant didn't have the slightest clue as to how long it had been hiding out in that space in his chest, just next to his heart. It could have been back on the day that they'd gone for drinks, on the anniversary of Leo's mother's death. It could have been the day that they'd spent in and out of cabs, laughing and hurrying from one conference to the other, forgetting that they were supposed to be snarky and barely tolerant of each other for that one day.

Grant had no idea how long he'd felt it, but he was deeply fond of Leo.

He hesitated to say love, even in the shower, to himself, rinsing soap from his skin. Saying love made this far, far too painful.

At the end of the day, if he admitted, here and now, that what he was feeling might be love, it would hurt too much. In a few months time, it would hurt too much when he had to sign those divorce papers.

Standing in the shower, watching the bubbly, soapy water swirl down the drain, Grant did his best to spare himself that pain. He wasn't in love with Leo Fitz, but he was deeply, deeply fond of him.

It was harder than he wanted to admit that 'in love' and 'deeply, deeply fond' might just have meant the same thing.

 

*

 

Leo wondered, briefly if Grant bruised easily. It didn't really matter whether or not he did, because the ferocity and length of time that he'd been gripping the other's hand for was likely to cause a bruise, either way. In any case, Grant's left hand was probably going to be very sore, come morning. Leo was a little sorry about that, but, honestly, Grant should have expected it.

Never mind that one of the few things he didn't know about Leo was that Leo wasn't keen on boats, and wide, open water. Yes, he could see the island, and the lights of the restaurant, just across the water, and, sure, the boat was large, and steady. That didn't change the fact that, if he looked out, all he would see was the Atlantic, stretching on forever away from them. One wrong move, and they were all in the freezing cold, deadly water, and Leo could barely swim.

He had swallowed his pride enough to hiss that in a whisper to his fake-fiance. Grant had pulled him into his side, tucking an arm around him and rubbing his upper arm, squeezing his shoulder gently. His other hand he'd offered up to be held, and Leo hadn't ignored that. He'd taken Grant's hand in his, lacing their fingers and squeezing tight. Across the boat, Charlotte had smiled, clearly touched, and Thomas had nodded. Like they approved of how coupley their brother was being. It occurred to Leo that they hadn't actually acted like a cuddly, touchy-feely couple all that much, since they had arrived. For that reason, he approved of his vague terror of the water. It helped to solidify their charade.

And, that small voice in his head added, it meant that he got to cuddle in close to Grant, hold his warm hand, and breathe in the oddly calming smell of his cologne.

Leo did his best to ignore that voice, though.

Once they were on solid ground, again, he was fine, but he was loath to let go of Grant's hand. It was a good thing, for them to be doing this, and Grant didn't really seem to mind. Not at all. He, in fact, only flexed his fingers once, letting them stretch and crack from the vice Leo had been holding them in, before he took his hand again, strolling up the the restaurant with the rest of the family.

Leo was very happy that he'd had the foresight to pack dressier clothes. Ernesto's had called for a suit, at least, on Grant's part. The other had come back to their room in only a towel, smiling sheepishly at Leo, who, himself, was wearing only his boxers as he dug out clothes from his suitcase. Grant had been carrying a suit on a hanger, apparently something that he'd left here for some time. That had been indication enough for Leo. He'd brought along grey dress pants, and a white button down. Paired with one of his nicer sweaters, and a neutral tie, he came together nicely. And next to Grant, if he was honest, he presented a good picture.

Thomas had dressed in black slacks and a black button down with the sleeves rolled. Christian and Douglas were also in suits. Holden wore khakis and a red long sleeve shirt, while his mother was dressed in a soft blue cap sleeve dress that swished around her knees. Charlotte had stepped out in high-waisted black pants and a cream blouse, Elaine a mossy green long-sleeved dress that hugged and showed off her figure, impressive for her age, which Leo suspected was the intention, and Gramzy was dressed in a pale yellow dress with a white shawl, the same outfit she had been talking about that morning.

All in all, they all looked very prim, and proper, and put together.

They looked like a very, very wealthy family, and that, Leo supposed, was exactly what they were. His mother had been middle class, and he'd been happy to be brought up like that. It was a little strange to be included in a group of people who very obviously had a lot of money.

It was curious how very much the bulk of them, however, didn't act like it.

They were led outside, to a patio dining area that had obviously been reserved entirely for them. White wine was served in flutes, and menus were put in front of them that were bound in leather. Ernesto's, Leo was convinced, was one of those places one didn't eat at all that often. He was going to indulge himself, while they were here.

“So, Leo, I know you haven't seen a lot.” Anna started, once their orders had been taken. Appetizers filled the table between them all, to tide them over – mostly Holden, but Leo would admit he was so, so happy to see food – until their entrees arrived. “But how are you liking Manchester?”

Leo looked up from the breadsticks he was eying, trying to forget about them for the moment. “It's really-” He paused as Grant dropped one of the breadsticks onto the small appetizer plate in front of him. “Uh.” Grant smiled and gave him a 'go on' nod. “It's really nice. Small, compared to New York. But it's a nice town. I like it.”

He wasn't lying. It was, obviously, very different from New York, but he definitely liked the town. It had a calm, welcoming feeling, and he could easily see how someone could fall in love with it. He could also, though, see why someone would want to get away from that, especially if they had a mother like Elaine. He didn't begrudge Grant for moving to New York, for that reason.

Anna nodded. “It is nice, isn't it? Do you think that you and Grant would move here? I mean, after the wedding and all.”

Leo felt Grant stiffen just slightly next to him. Leo had noticed something, that afternoon, once he and Charlotte had found Elaine and Gramzy again. Anna had joined them in that time, and it was apparent that she and Elaine were close. In the very least, she seemed like she knew how to handle Elaine well. Grant and Thomas had both made mention of Anna being a nice, laidback woman, 'cooler' than Christian, which Leo had taken to mean that she was easily preferable to their brother, certainly their mother. For that reason, he hoped that Elaine hadn't put Anna up to this. Grant's reaction made it obvious that moving back to Manchester By The Sea was probably something that had come up in their argument that morning, the one that had been about Grant taking over the family business, since Christian had gone into politics.

“Well, you know,” Leo laughed, and hoped it didn't sound as forced and fake as it felt. “We both work in New York, and that's quite the commute. I don't think they'd be willing to let us work from home, especially not me.”

Anna made a face like 'oh, right', like she had simply forgotten that little fact. Leo was inclined to believe her, and Grant was relaxing next to him, until Elaine opened her mouth.

“Grant and I actually discussed this earlier today. I brought up the possibility that you two could get a small apartment there, in the city, where you could stay during the week, and Grant could be here.” She smiled, and Leo did his best not to mentally imagine her as a snake. “Douglas isn't getting any younger, and someone needs to take over for him, you know.”

“Mom.” Charlotte started, sounding affronted, but Leo held up a hand.

Under the table, Grant squeezed his leg, just above the knee. Either a warning, or an encouragement, Leo wasn't sure. The little action sent a thrill up his spine that was hard to ignore, even as he put on his sweetest smile.

“I'm sorry, Elaine. I understand how important the family business is, trust me. But, well... I don't know that I'm happy with that idea.” He leaned into Grant's side, breathing him in. God, he smelled good. “It would mean being apart, five out of seven days of the week, and, you know, we see each other every day, right now. That would be very hard. Maybe in a few years, we could consider it, but right now?” He shook his head, leaning out of Grant's space just a little. “I couldn't think of it.”

Charlotte's tone was much less sweet than Leo's. “Yeah, no kidding.” She leaned forward on her crossed arms, looking down the table at her mother. “Mom, at least let them had a few years together before you try to force them apart like some Disney villain?” As she'd spoken, her tone had gotten lighter, until she sounded almost joking. She winked at her mother when Thomas said 'hear, hear!', and the table, which easily could have gotten tense, relaxed. Elaine was clearly keeping on a mask, at least, from where Leo sat, but she accepted both his and Charlotte's words with a little nod.

“I would say that's fair.” She agreed.

The subject was gone, just like that, and conversation turned to Thomas' band in Chicago. They were making a name for themselves, slowly but surely, and he was convinced that any day now they would be signing with a major label. Apparently, their shows had been frequented by quite a few label representatives, and they'd been told there was something of a bidding war brewing over them. It was good news.

Leo found himself riveted to that, and the same when the conversation turned to Charlotte's writing, just as their food arrived. Between bites of steak, Charlotte explained that her second novel was soon to be published, and that she was working on a third, and had planned a fourth. Her book, she said, probably for Leo's benefit, wasn't anything that had exploded, but they had a fairly dedicated following, and the publisher was planning a much bigger release for her second title.

From there, the conversation moved on to Holden's life as a first grader, and what that entailed, and then over to Anna's story of the regular customer who came into her shop – they had stopped by when they were in town, and it was, not to Leo's surprise, a cosmetics and personal care shop – and the wacky things that they got up to.

As they worked their way through the meals, first dinner, and then dessert, with more wine, Leo found himself relaxing more and more. He liked these people, generally. Some of them still gave him pause – Elaine, Douglas and Christian – but mostly they were fun, sweet, smart people, and they had taken him in so easily.

He liked these people a lot.

He was on his third flute of wine when Thomas started tapping his knife on the side of his glass, daintily, smirking across the table at the two of them. Leo was, he knew, leaned into Grant's side just slightly, still tasting chocolate on his lips from the warm brownie and ice cream he'd had for dessert.

“Now, maybe you two are just being polite.” Thomas started, setting his knife down and threading his fingers. He propped his chin on them, continuing to smirk across the table. “But you two are getting _married_ tomorrow, and I haven't caught you kissin', _once_.”

“Oh, oh, Gramzy and I caught them naked in bed though!” Charlotte volunteered, putting a hand up. The table erupted in laughter, and Grant groaned. Holden, for his part, was laughing, but looked confused about why. His glass of chocolate milk had been attended to constantly all night, and he had streaks of brownie around his mouth – he had been the one to pick Leo's dessert, at Leo's insistence, and had gotten the same himself.

“We had just gotten out of the shower,” Grant explained, a small lie. “And then you were knocking, and--”

“--Hold up, even better, you were in the shower _together_.” Anna cut in. More laughs, even from Christian and Elaine.

“We can't win, honey.” Leo said, laughing himself and looking up at Grant. “Any way you slice it, we're guilty.”

Grant rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, big and obvious. “Yeah, I guess we are, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, you're guilty all right.” Thomas said. “But not just for having a party in the shower.”

Holden still looked confused. Christian, Elaine and Douglas, Leo noticed, all experienced a slight flicker of something across their faces at the thought that Leo and Grant might have been up to things in the shower that morning. Those looks were gone as quick as they came, though, everyone focused back on what Thomas was saying.

“I wanna see a liplock, boys.” He said, rapping the tabletop with his knuckle. “Right here, right now. I know you haven't been savin' it for the ceremony.”

Leo sort of felt like the world was spinning under him.

Thomas wanted him and Grant to kiss.

Obviously, this had been coming all along, especially with the wedding being the next day, but Leo hadn't prepared for it, at all. Now, with the awakening he'd had in regards to his feelings for Grant, he felt even less prepared.

“Oh,” Anna breathed. “Yes, come on, just a little one. This is your engagement celebration dinner, after all.” Charlotte nodded at her side.

“Lay it on him, Grant! Gramzy added in, causing the table to fall into a round of laughter again. It fell away too quickly for Leo's liking, for the comfort of the butterflies flapping in his stomach.

Tomorrow, during the ceremony, and he was sure, much more during the reception, they would be having to kiss. What was one kiss, now?

“I don't think we have a choice, babe.” Grant said, his voice suddenly seeming so much closer. “They're not going to lay off until, well... I lay one on you.”

_Babe_ .

If Grant could play along, so could he, right?

Leo straightened and turned slightly in his seat. “Well, then,” he looped his fingers under Grant's tie, gently tugging on it. “Lay one on me. Appease the people.”

Leo could have sworn the breath Grant took was a little shaky, but he couldn't have been sure, over the thumping of his own heartbeat in his ears. He wasn't even aware of anyone else at the table, now. It was just him, and Grant, and the way they were leaning in, eyes closing, Leo's fingers tightening on the fabric between his fingers. Lips meeting.

Grant's mouth was warm, and the bite of the wine lingered on his lips. Soft, and not too insistent, but Grant didn't hold back. He kissed him, proper enough for his nephew to see, but enough that Leo wanted more.

He didn't want the kiss to stop. He wanted another, for Grant to taste the chocolate in his mouth, to taste the sweetness of the cream cheese frosting that had adorned Grant's carrot cake. He wanted to climb into his lap, and kiss him until they were both gasping for air.

He was the one who broke the kiss. Edging away only slightly, breath still mingling with Grant's, the tingle of his touch still dancing over Leo's lips. He could hear clapping, laughter and whoops, but it sounded like he was underwater. All there was in the world was him, and Grant, and the way Grant was looking at him, making him just about positive that Grant, too, wanted to do that again.

That thought made his tummy flip over.

“All right!” Thomas was saying, and his triumphant tone broke whatever trance Leo had been stuck in.

“Leo, I commend you for putting up with Dogbreath, here.” Christian said, and his input really jarred Leo back to the present. He laughed, a small thing, and could have kicked himself.

He sounded breathy and amazed. That would sell the kiss well, but he wasn't sure he wanted Grant thinking it was all part of the act. That wasn't an act; that was because of the kiss, but how could he tell Grant that?

He couldn't.

At least, not yet.

“I could say the same to Anna,” Grant said, sounding equally amicable. Again, another round of laughter overtook the table.

“Well.” Douglas cut in, finally. “I think it's probably time that we get back. I'm sure you two would like some time to work on your vows, before bed.”

Grant and Leo both nodded.

“And you'll be in separate rooms, tonight.” Gramzy said. “After that kiss, I just know that, if you're left alone in that room together, you'll be getting up to _things_.” She winked, and Leo knew that he was turning red, at both the implication, and the thought. “It's tradition.”

“It's tradition.” Elaine echoed, with a solemn nod.

It took them some time to get themselves together, and then a little more time for the boat to arrive to carry their load of leaving patrons from the island, back to the mainland. Once more, Leo found himself snuggling into Grant's side, holding on for dear life. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he was full of food, or the wine, or the kiss, but he felt much calmer on this trip, than the last. They made it back to the house, and said their goodbyes to Anna, Christian and Holden, saying they would see them bright and early. Holden surprised Leo by asking him to bend down for a hug, once he was done with Grant.

“Seeya in the mornin', uncle Leo!” he said in parting, following after his parents. Leo felt his heart clench again.

Uncle Leo.

“Hey.”

Grant's hand touched his shoulder, and when Leo turned, he was smiling. He looked happy, much happier than Leo had seen him when they left New York. It was so genuine, real, so easy to get lost in.

“You want to work on our vows, maybe?”

Leo smirked, putting his hands on his hips. The rest of the family was retiring to the living room, except for Gramzy, who had bid them all goodnight and headed up to bed before the others had left. “Aren't those supposed to be private things that neither of us hear until the ceremony?”

“Yeah, well,” Grant took his hand, leading him towards the back door. “Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you and needed a good excuse.”

Leo tried hard to see that as anything other than an indicator that Grant maybe, just possibly, was into him, too. It was hard. Hard enough that it occupied his thoughts as Grant led him out the back door, down the lawn, and to a large blue and white hammock, hanging between two trees. The sun had set, and the air was chilled, the hammock swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. Grant let go of his hand and climbed in carefully, beckoning him with a wave.

Carefully, Leo climbed into the hammock with him, all but collapsing on top of Grant and setting the hammock to swaying wildly. Grant laughed, putting a foot down to steady it while Leo got comfortable. The way the hammock was made, it was impossible for the two of them to lay in it without being pushed together. Leo ended up half on his side, half on top of Grant, holding himself rigid so that he didn't put too much weight on the other.

“You can relax...” Grant suggested. “You'd... probably be more comfortable.”

“No, really?” Leo shot back in a faux amazed tone. “You don't say.” He did take Grant's suggestion, though, relaxing, until he was resting against him, chin pillowed on his hand on Grant's chest. It was, of course, more comfortable, but it felt almost right. The two of them cuddled up on this hammock, sway slightly with the movement of Grant's leg. They were still dressed in their nice dinner clothes, though Grant had undone his jacket and pulled his dress shirt from his waistband, and Leo had pulled the hems of both his sweater and his button down loose. Their shoes, too, they had left in the house, Leo suddenly noticed. He'd been so caught up in trying to make Grant's words completely meaningless, that he hadn't noticed coming down the lawn in sock feet.

“That's better,” Grant said, quiet, and laid his head back on the hammock, closing his eyes. The hammock continued the sway, and Leo continued to watch him.

“That was a really nice kiss.” He said, after a few minutes of silence, the two of them having been merely breathing, cuddled together.

Grant's mouth curved in a smile and he cracked open an eye. “It was.” He agreed. “Think we convinced them?”

Leo was tempted to say, 'No, so we better practice, more, right this second', but the concern over the word 'convinced' stopped him. That was all it was. Just the two of them trying to convince Grant's family that this was the real deal, that they really and truly were in love with each other.

“Oh, I think they're plenty convinced.” Leo said conversationally, turning his head to lay his cheek on Grant's chest. “And thankfully that wasn't terrible, so I won't mind doing it again tomorrow.”

“A few times.” Grant pointed out. “Ceremony, reception... We're going to be kissing a whole lot.”

Leo didn't have any complaints about that.

They lapsed into silence again, and Leo let his mind wander. Wander over how it had felt to kiss Grant, how it felt to be accepted as part of his family. Wander over the slow beat of Grant's heart under his ear, and his even breathing.

Wander and wonder at why it was that Grant had brought him out here, into the calm night, to essentially – unavoidably – cuddle up in a hammock.

“What are you thinking for your vows?” Grant asked. His voice was so quiet Leo nearly missed it.

Raising his head, Leo frowned. “I'm not sure. Something about the beauty of love sprung out of friendship. How you were an unlikely friend, and an even more unlikely lover.” He smiled. “Add in how falling in love with you took me by surprise.”

That part wasn't a lie, but it was enough that he could wave it off as a joke to accompany their scheme.

Grant smiled back at him, slow, like he had to think about it. He looked almost lost, and Leo wondered what he was thinking.

“If that's okay.”

Grant shook his head. “No, it's perfect. It's really, those, that's.” He chuckled, raising a hand to rub down his face. “They'll be great.” He moved his hand up to his hairline, looking off into the middle distance. “How are mine supposed to measure up to those?”

Leo grinned. “I thought you liked a good competition.”

“I do.” Grant answered quickly. “But this, this is...” He made a sound like air escaping from a balloon. Leo startled, and then laughed.

“Please, _please_ don't say that to me when we're at the altar, tomorrow.” He got out between laughs, pressing his face into Grant's chest. Grant, too, was laughing, one of his hands coming up to run down Leo's back.

“I'll try not to.” He promised. “It'll be hard.”

“I believe in your determination.”

Leo shifted on the hammock, getting closer to Grant, more comfortable. He dared to loop an arm around his waist, one leg ever so slightly tangled with the taller man's. Cheek pressed to his chest, again, he closed his eyes and drifted.

He was happy.

He knew that, as much as he knew that he was breathing. He was happy, with Grant, right here. That feeling was just growing, getting bigger, had been ever since he'd realized, in the fitting room at Kara's, that he was in love with him.

The hammock continued rocking, and Grant's hand kept trailing lazily up and down his back. The breeze blew, chill, but they were warm in their hammock. The air smelled fresh, like the ocean, under the welcoming, warm smell of Grant's cologne.

It didn't surprise Leo that he dozed off on Grant's chest, only to be spooked awake by someone yelling.

“Boo!”

“Jesus! Fucking!” Grant startled under him, shifting and forcing him to untangle himself, looking up at their intruder. “Thomas!”

“Aw, did I fwighten da wuvbirds?” Thomas asked, sticking his lower lip out. Leo swatted at him, and he danced back, just out of reach, laughing.

“Heyyy! There ya go! Actin' like a true Ward.” Thomas reached out and ruffled his hair, something Leo barely dodged away from. “You two should probably come inside before you get eaten alive. Get some actual sleep before tomorrow.” He pouted again. “No sex tonight, though.”

Grant groaned. “Tommy, come off it.”

Thomas laughed, heading back up to the house. Leo noticed, as he extracting himself from the hammock, he was in sock feet, too. Grant joined him on his feet a second later, and held out his hand. Leo didn't hesitate to take it, letting himself be led up to the house.

The three of them peeled off their socks in the doorway, and padded around to the front of the house, heading for the stairs. It wasn't long before they were standing in the room that had been shared, Grant letting go of Leo's hand.

“So, have a good sleep.” He said.

Leo nodded. “You too.”

“I'll see you in the morning?”

Leo laughed. “You sound worried. Don't be, I'm not going to skip out on our wedding.” He leaned up, catching himself in time. Instead of angling for a kiss, he looped his arms around Grant, tugging him in for a hug. “Thank you. So much.”

Grant's arms encircled his waist, holding him close. “Any time.”

And then he was gone, leaving Leo alone in a strange room, with a big bed, and nothing but his thoughts and the looming shadow of his wedding the next day to keep him company.

 

*

 

The next morning was a flurry of motion, in and out, and all around the house. People Grant didn't know, people that he did know. All of them darting around, setting things up, ordering things, on the phone yelling at people, on the front lawn yelling at people. His father was supervising the putting up of the reception tent on the side lawn, his mother was supervising turning the kitchen into a catering service workstation. Charlotte and Thomas were using blue and white ribbons to tape off a walkway from the back, side, and front doors, to the closest bathrooms. Some guys that Grant recognized from Christian's political rallies showed up with him, and spoke with both of his parents before taking up posts around the house.

He and Leo stood in the middle of it, with their hair mussed, in housecoats they'd borrowed from his father or brother, wondering what they were supposed to do to help.

“Nothing, dear.” Gramzy said, when Grant asked. “Except shower, and start getting ready, in the next little while. The ceremony is in an hour and a half.”

An hour and a half, and he didn't know exactly what he was going to say for his vows. Yesterday had been murder for his assurance that he could come up with something that would be enough.

Yesterday had also ended with him lying in bed, fully aware, now, that 'deeply fond' and 'in love' were very much the same thing, when it came to how he felt about Leo. He hadn't even noticed that he'd been falling for him, until it was too late, and he was agonizing over the memory of Leo kissing him. Mourning the chance he'd lost to have another one of those kisses – maybe even better – last night when Leo had been leaning up, and then simply hugged him.

They'd been out in the hammock for an hour and a half the night before. He could have kissed him again, then, and hadn't.

He was going a little bit out of his mind.

“Maybe we should start getting ready...” Leo said. He had half an English muffin in his hand, the breakfast they'd been able to nab from the busy kitchen, and there were crumbs on his lower lip.

Honestly, it wasn't fair.

“Maybe.” Grant agreed, pulling his gaze away from Leo's mouth. “But we need the tuxes, and Kara isn't--”

There was a knock at the door, and Thomas sprinted past, socks sliding to a stop in front of the door before he swung it wide, grinning broadly. “Hello!”

On the other side of the door stood Kara, along with a short man with scrubby looking stubble, and a tall woman with blonde hair. Lance Hunter, and his wife, Bobbi Morse-Hunter. Lance, of course, would be bartending the wedding. Bobbi, well. Bobbi was an old friend, and she worked with Kara. More than likely, even though both women were wearing dresses – Bobbi in a strapless periwinkle blue number that touched the ground, Kara in a shorter, also strapless, red piece – Bobbi would be helping Kara deliver the tuxes. They both looked stunning, even with the garment bags in their hands.

“Morning.” Kara greeted. “Are the grooms-- there they are.”

She grinned when she caught sight of Grant and Leo, and Grant moved forward immediately, hugging both of them and shaking Lance's hand. “Sorry we aren't... Dressed. Didn't think there would be a point, until it was time for the tuxedoes.”

Bobbi nodded. “There wasn't, but, here they are.” She handed Leo the bag in her hand, and reached out to shake his. “It's nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Bobbi Morse, this is my husband Lance. I've known your fiance for a long time. You have any trouble dealing with him, you let me know.”

Leo grinned, and Grant rolled his eyes. “I'll be sure to do that.”

“Hey, Lance, come on, man, I'll help you get everything set up in the reception area.” Thomas said, stepping out the door, Lance in tow.

“Congratulations, by the by!” Lance called over his shoulder, in an English accent. Leo frowned, and Bobbi grinned.

“It seems that Grant and I both have a weakness for accents.”

Charlotte bustled in, waving her hands. “Hey, ladies, nice to see you, um, Grant? Leo? You two should really be getting ready. Like. Right now? Time's wasting, let's go, let's go!”

Grant took the bag Kara held out to him, mouthing a quick 'thank you' before his sister was hustling them up the stairs, and into separate rooms.

Left alone with his own devices, this time, it was much easier to distract himself. He needed to shower, shave, do his hair. Put on cologne, and make sure all of that was done perfectly, before he pulled on the tuxedo. All of that took him the better part of an hour, but at the end of it, he was standing in front of the full length mirror, in something of shock.

He looked ready to be married, and that was a good thing.

There was a knock on the door, and when he opened it, he found his mother standing there. She gasped, looking him up and down. “Oh, honey. You look so handsome.”

For once, he didn't shy away from his mother's compliments. “Thanks, mom. Is... something up?”

Elaine tore her eyes away from him, from inspecting every last detail, and looked up at his face again. Her face clouded. Not a good sign.

“Well, first of all, your friends from New York have arrived. Jemma, Skye, and Antoine?”

Grant grinned. “That's great news.”

Elaine nodded. “Your sister took them around to the barn, to get them good seats. Jemma, I take it, is Leo's... best... lady?” She dragged the question out, clearly unsure of the term that she should be using. Grant was just relieved she didn't say 'maid of honour'.

“Yeah, she will be.”

Another nod. “All right. So Charlotte's showing her to Leo's ready room, and Thomas will be in yours. But, there's someone else here. A Melinda May?”

Grant felt his gut tighten. “Okay.”

“Grant.” His mother's face darkened. “She said she's with the department of immigration. That she thinks that the two of you are getting married to stop Leo getting deported to Scotland.”

Grant's temper flared. “Did she? That's really nice of her. Show up on our wedding day and cast disparity on our relationship.”

“Grant. Are you two getting married to stop Leo getting deported?”

He should have seen that question coming. His mother was the type of person who would suspect such a thing, when it was presented to her, especially if it benefit her for the outcome to be that she might still get a chance to guilt her son into running the family business.

Grant knew that he should have seen that question coming, but it still shocked him.

“No, mom. We're not.” He drew himself up to his full height. “Leo and I are getting married because we love each other. I won't lie, there's a problem with his visa, but that came up after I proposed. And it's being handled.”

Elaine narrowed her eyes. “Is he using you to stay in the country?”

“I'm done having this conversation, mom.” Grant said, firmly, brushing past her and heading for the stairs. “I'll see you at the ceremony.”

His temper was hot, just under the point of exploding, but he couldn't do that, not today. May hadn't replied to their email, and he'd thought that meant that things were accepted, and they would see her on Monday. He hadn't suspected that she would take it upon herself to show up on their doorstep and invite herself to the wedding. Of course, his mother would let her stay. His mother was probably hoping that the truth came out, and Grant was spared while Leo got sent away, and all her hopes of Grant taking over for Douglas would be real again.

Twenty minutes later, he was calmer, collected, having just explained all this in a rush to Thomas, who looked like storm clouds were brewing.

“That's real rude of her.” He said, plainly. “Kind of makes me want to go out there and escort her off the property.” His face darkened more as he frowned. “But that'll probably make things worse for you and Leo, huh?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Grant said, but he was thankful for his brother taking his side. “At this point, all we can do is get up there, do this thing, and then it's official. Even once Leo's paperwork is fixed, he'll already be safe to stay.”

“That's real good, because, I'll be honest with you, brother.” Thomas stood, adjusting his suit. “I really like Leo. And I can tell you two really like each other. You're good for each other. I don't want you to lose that.”

Being honest with himself, Grant didn't want to lose that either. “Thanks, Tom.”

“Anytime.” He clapped Grant on the back. “Now. It's three minutes to showtime, loverboy. You ready?”

Grant took a breath, and thought about everything leading up to this. Skye asking if he was sure, the plane ride up. Leo learning everything there was to know about his family, quick, and then making up that ridiculous romantic proposal story. Catching each other naked the morning before, and piling under the covers in the buff to hide from his sister and grandmother. Leo listening to him vent about his mom. Agreeing to this, today, and Leo working with him and his family to make it happen. The rings. Dinner. That kiss. Their time in the hammock.

Realizing he was in love with Leo Fitz.

“I'm ready.”

 

*

 

Traditional weddings meant that the groom stood at the front, and the bride was brought to him. For their wedding, both Leo and Grant would walk up the aisle, though unaccompanied. Waiting in the hallway, Grant could see Thomas and Jemma waiting for the two of them at the altar, and Phil, the civil servant, smiling coolly between them, dressed in a suit. His family sat off to one side, their friends to the other. Skye and Trip caught sight of him in the hall and flashed him thumbs up. He grinned and waved back, scanning the crowd until he found Melinda May. She was looking right at him, her face unreadable. Just watching, taking everything in.

Hopefully this ceremony would go a long way to convincing her.

The music started, and Grant took a breath, stepping out into the aisle, and walking towards the altar. As he did, he caught sight of others that he knew from here, and more that he and Leo knew from New York. Jemma, Skye and Trip must have spread the word. Bobbi made an 'OK' symbol with her fingers, looking him up and down as he passed. Charlotte mouthed 'good luck'.

And then he was in place, turned, and facing the hallway that Leo would emerge from.

Grant had figured that there would be no 'amazing' moment, when he saw Leo. He'd be wearing a tuxedo, but that wasn't all that different from a suit, and was nothing to drop jaw over. He'd been very, very wrong on that count. When Leo came into view, Grant was sure his heart skipped a beat, and if he hadn't accepted that he'd fallen for Leo, yet, he did, right that second.

Dressed in the tuxedo that Kara had provided, Leo looked dashing. Handsome, almost glowing, and when he saw Grant, he grinned, and that glow got even better. Grant hadn't even noticed that he'd grinned when Leo had come into view. He did wonder if everyone else in the room saw what he saw. How was anyone supposed to resist falling for someone who looked like that? Who smiled like that?

Leo's smile only faltered when he caught sight of May, and only for a second. With any luck, her presence wouldn't cause much of a problem for either of them, during the ceremony.

It seemed like it took forever for Leo to get to the altar, but once he did, he reached out immediately, taking Grant's offered hands.

“Hi,” he whispered.

Grant squeezed his hands lightly. “Hi.”

Phil Coulson cleared his throat, then, and the music finished. Grant took that chance to look around the room, on the side over Leo's shoulder, and he could feel Leo doing the same. Unfortunately, May was on his side, and so Grant wouldn't be able to see her face, to know what she was thinking. Skye and Trip, however, were on Leo's side, very easy for him to see, and once again, they both smiled and winked. Jemma, over Leo's shoulder, also smiled at him, wide. Confident, given how nervous she probably was about all this.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.” Coulson started. “My name is Phil Coulson, and I would like to welcome you all as witnesses to the union of Grant Ward and Leo Fitz.”

Grant looked back to Leo, smiling at him. Leo's smile faltered for a second, and then showed itself, like the sun coming through the clouds.

Everything would be all right.

Coulson continued. “This place in which we are now met has been duly sanctioned according to law for the celebration of marriage. This ceremony will unite Grant,” here he gestured to Grant, for the benefit of the audience. Grant almost snorted at that. Everyone seated in the room knew who he was. “And Leo in marriage.” Again, Coulson gestured, this time to Leo. That one was a little bit more necessary. While the Manchester citizens knew Grant, they wouldn't know Leo, and their New York friends were in shorter supply than the people who lived in the town where Grant had grown up. “We are here to celebrate their union and to honour their commitment to each other. Today, this couple will proclaim their love for one another. We celebrate with them and for them.”

Leo was scanning the crowd over Grant shoulder again, but he squeezed Grant's hands and gave him a little smile when Coulson said that. This time, he stayed focused, his eyes roaming over Grant's face for a few seconds.

“If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, they should declare it now.”

The barn was silent.

Good, May hadn't gotten up to try and stop them. Jemma seemed cool and collected. Everything was all right.

“I'm sorry.”

Leo took his hands from Grant's, shaking his head, not meeting his eyes. The crowd started to murmur, and Jemma froze, her eyes widening, mouth forming a 'no'.

“I'm.” Leo looked at Grant, and Grant saw it. He was breaking. He was breaking, and this was about to go all wrong. “I'm sorry. We can't do this. Grant and I...”

“Leo, please.” Grant said, voice quiet, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He didn't dare look at May. Leo, thankfully, didn't shrug him off, but didn't look at him either. He was too focused on facing the assembly.

“I'm sure you all can tell, I'm not from around here. I'm from Scotland.” Leo said. Grant wanted to stop him, but he felt like he couldn't move. “Because I was lazy, I let my visa run out, and I was about to be deported from the country.”

There was a collective gasp. Grant tightened his grip on Leo's shoulder.

“I couldn't let that happen. I.” Leo laughed, bitterly. “I like my job too much, and I knew there were loopholes. I also knew Grant was single, and he had dated men in the past, and everyone knew, of course, about my proclivities.” A single tear was rolling down his cheek, though his voice wasn't breaking. Grant wanted, more than anything, to stop him, but he couldn't. He was stuck, watching this unfold, watching everything they had built over the last few days fall to pieces. “It worked. And I promised Grant, if he did this for me, he got out from under my thumb. He'd get a promotion, and he wouldn't have to work under me any more. We would be equal. And he agreed.”

There was another gasp, and now Grant looked at his family. Christian and Douglas' had matching stone expressions on, and his mother looked disappointed beyond understanding. Charlotte's arm was around Gramzy, who looked teary, the same as his sister. A few rows behind them, May continued to watch, her face blank.

“Please, don't hold it against him. I didn't give him much of a choice. This is my fault.”

“It's not.” Grant interjected, finally finding his voice. “Leo, don't do this.”

“No, Grant.” Leo was firm in his words, but he wasn't looking at Grant. “I can't do this to you. I cannot do this to your family. To all of you, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasted your time, and your money.”

Finally, Leo looked at him, as he stepped off the stage. “And Grant, I'm sorry for everything I've done.”

Then he was quickly marching from the barn, saying something to May as he passed her. She was on her feet and following him, like Grant would have been, if he wasn't suddenly swarmed by his family.

“Grant, what's going on?”

“I can't believe this.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“I can't believe you let yourself get blackmailed.”

Grant turned to his mother, opening his mouth to argue with her.

“I thought there was something wrong with him.”

Instead of arguing with his mother, he pulled back his fist, and punched Christian.

That settled things down really fast, though, for Grant, it was more the guilt that he'd punched his brother in front of his nephew. Holden was being held back by Kara while everyone discussed what had just happened, loudly.

“Grant Douglas Ward.” Elaine started. “Do not take your mistakes out on your brother. He's--”

Gramzy held up a hand. “Elaine. Be quiet.”

She had everyone's attention, then.

“Grant. Explain.”

He didn't know where to start. Everyone was watching him, everyone was watching the tight bundle of their family. Jemma was gone, presumably after Leo. Skye and Trip were hovering halfway to the back of the barn. It was them that he spoke to, first.

“Stop him.” He asked. “Please, keep him here, whatever you have to do.”

“You got it.” Skye said, and Trip gave him a nod, both of them hurrying from the barn and heading, he hoped, wherever Leo had gone. Then he turned to his family.

“He didn't blackmail me, all right?” He started. “Yes, he sprang this on me, but I was already going to agree, long before we made the deal. I don't know why I was going to do that, or, at least, I didn't, until we got here.”

He looked from his sister to his grandmother, to his father, to his oldest brother, who was holding a hand over his eye, his sister in law, to his younger brother, his mother.

“It wasn't until I was alone, here, with him, and I didn't have to constantly think that I still disliked him, that I realized... I don't. I don't dislike him, not at all. I think... No, I know. I love him. Last night? That was our first kiss. We've never slept together. I've never even told him I love him. But, part of me knew, back in New York, and that's why I was willing to risk the fine, and the jail time.”

Grant shook his head, incredulous, amazed at himself.

“I had the chance, last night, to tell him I loved him, and I didn't. I thought it would just come, naturally, once we were married. It would become real. I didn't say anything, because I was scared of scaring him off, even though he needed this marriage for more than...” Grant shrugged. “Anything that I needed it for.”

“Uh, well, excuse me then?” Kara piped up, holding up her hand. “What the hell are you waiting for, Grant? Go!”

Thomas and Charlotte, Anna and even his father were nodding.

“You've got to go after him, Grant.” Anna said. In the back of his mind, Grant was amused that she didn't seem all that bothered that Grant had punched her husband in the eye.

“Marry the hell out of him, get that visa secured, and then have a good honeymoon.” Douglas agreed. “On your mother and I.”

Elaine pursed her lips. “Love is love.” She sighed, and then stepped aside.

“You go get that hot piece.” Gramzy chimed in. A small laugh rose from the crowd, and Grant took a step off the stage. And then another into the aisle, and another, and then he was running, tearing out of the barn, and heading for the house.

Leo had to go upstairs to get his things, in order to leave. He wouldn't leave the things he'd brought here. He had to take them. Grant got to the house, and caught Trip and Skye arguing with May. He didn't stop to listen. Jemma was standing just inside the door, looking nervous, watching the three of them argue.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she said when she saw him, clearly flustered. “He's upstairs. Go, go, now, and just. Fix this.” She was gripping Grant's arm. “He's in love with you.”

Grant stopped. “Sorry?”

“He texted me, last night.” She said, and Grant realized her eyes were welling with tears. “He said he was in love with you, and he wasn't sure if he could put you and your family through a fake marriage. I should have seen this coming.”

Grant shook his head. “Jemma, it's okay.” He patted her hand. “I'm going to fix this.”

Taking the stairs two at a time, it took him no time to get to the bedroom that they had shared. The door bounced off the back wall when he opened it, and Leo jumped. He was still dressed in the tux, and was haphazardly pushing on his suitcase, trying to squish everything down, unfolded, enough to close.

“Don't.” Grant said, simply.

Leo shook his head. “Grant, it's okay. I'll find a job in Scotland. Jemma can come visit me. Skye, Trip. You, too, if you even want to see me, after this.”

It was Grant's turn to shake his head, striding across the room to pull Leo away from his suitcase. The other wouldn't look up at him. “Of course I would want to come visit you, but I won't have to, because you're not going to do this.”

“Not going to do what?” Leo asked, and his tone had bite. He looked up, eyes narrowed. “Marry you? You're right, I'm not. I won't put you through all that, your family. Your poor grandmother. I might have put her on her deathbed, just now.”

“No.” Grant answered, in response to that statement. “She's fine.”

“Thank God for small miracles.” Leo muttered, shrugging out of Grant's grasp and going back to his suitcase. “You don't have to go through with this, Grant. You're free. I can figure things out for myself once I leave the country.”

“Leopold Fitz.”

Leo cringed at the mention of his full name, stopping his futile shoving.

“I'm in love with you.”

That made him look up again. Grant could see the disbelief and shock in his eyes, and, just behind it, the suspicion. “I'll make sure you get that promotion, even without marrying me.” He said, but it was weak, like he didn't want to believe that was why Grant was saying this. The ' _Please don't lie to me_ ', unsaid.

“I don't care about the promotion. Not right now.” Grant said, honestly. He hesitantly reached for Leo's hands, taking one of them. “I'm telling you the truth. I didn't know, until yesterday, but it's why I agreed to marry you, so easily. It's why I kept wanting to kiss you, again, and again, last night. Why I dragged you out to that hammock. It's why I want to marry you.”

Leo shook his head, looking a little dazed. “After everything, just now, you want to go back down there, and marry me?” He asked. “Even though you know that it's going to be harder than ever to get May to sign off on our legitimacy?”

Grant nodded. “Absolutely.”

The smile that was breaking over Leo's face was slow, like he was trying to hold it back, but couldn't. “It's going to be an uphill climb, starting right now. You're _sure_ you want to marry me?”

“Leo Fitz?” Grant asked, his tone almost a scold as he reached with his other hand to tug on the other man's waist, pulling him forward. Leo went without argument, stepping in close, and looking up at him. He was smiling full wattage, now, and Grant hadn't ever seen anything more beautiful.

“Marry me, because I want to date you.”

Leo laughed, reaching up to pull him down. “You're an idiot.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Leo breathed, and tugged him down the rest of the way, kissing him, slow, and deep, and full of the promise of many, many more to come.

 


End file.
